The Poveglian Vendetta
by Angry Archer
Summary: G1:  A year has passed since Rumble and Frenzy visited one of Earth's darkest haunts, but after strange events in the Nemesis occur they soon discover that the real nightmare has only just begun. /Sequel to Isola Di Poveglia/ T for Language.
1. Overture Delle Spirito

**A/N:** This is a sequel to my other story _**'Isola Di Poveglia'**_. It's a short Halloween-inspired story starring Rumble and Frenzy who travel to one of Earth's most haunted places (Poveglia Island) and 'spend the night' there in search of the missing component that was dropped there. It's a homage to ghost stories and those paranormal investigative shows. Although it was intended to be a one-shot (even though it's three chapters long) I left it open in case I ever got inspired to do a sequel.

This is that sequel and it will be more of a story than a one-shot. I would recommend reading the first one to better understand this one since it picks up where it left off.

Without anything further to add—enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Decepticons/Autobots but any Original Characters belong to me…

* * *

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 1**

**"Overture Delle Spirito"**

Daily duties in the Nemesis helped to keep Rumble and Frenzy preoccupied and also helped to block out the horrifying encounter a year ago when they unintentionally ventured into the human's realm of the supernatural; a realm that remained unspoken between the two after a private vow taken in one of the storage rooms and away from fellow Decepticon optics.

They were never to mention the encounter between themselves or to others.

Ghosts were rare, but not uncommon in the Cybertronian world. The luxury of being metallic and not organic was the life-expectancy. Humans were brief figments in time while the Transformers were practically immortal. Plus, humans were more in abundance and the probability of leaving a dark mark on a location was more common.

Frenzy, for the briefest moment, was curious of how many souls had lost their pathetic fleshie lives on that island, but Rumble made him reconsider; he didn't want to know and Frenzy agreed… ignorance in this case was probably bliss.

The one fact that really ate at the twins was that in the end, dead or alive, they let the humans get the best of them, and that was the reason for Rumble and Frenzy's feeling of shame—especially when they had to explain the encounter to Soundwave.

Frenzy was still surprised that Soundwave didn't seem to react when they told them what happened on the island; but he was probably curious despite his silence. What really did catch his master's attention was what happened in the Bell Tower and what he had personally experienced during the possession. Frenzy didn't even want to think about it; it was a horrible, dread-filled experience that he wouldn't even wish upon on his worst enemy…well maybe Starscream.

The ghost, whatever it was, it was not like the others that had followed them around the island; he could feel it. Hatred… whatever it did, it filled him with an uncontrollable hate; suffocating and trapping him in a cloud of darkness. Frenzy also recalled it speaking to him, it was faint and quiet but he didn't need to increase his audios to know what it ordered. He always knew, as if they were connected and able to hear each other's very thoughts.

He was supposed to kill Rumble that night and he thanked Primus that it ran out of energy before it could force him to do its bidding.

Soundwave only asked one question, a question that still continued to plague the black and red twin's thoughts even now after a year…

_"Specify why it chose you."_

Frenzy thought he knew the answer at the time. "_Probably cause I was the one tha' went up to the tower."_

But when Frenzy really thought about it, he didn't really see it as an explanation. The difference between Rumble and himself was that despite both being nothing but a couple of sparklings (he knew the assumption was about right and he accepted it with the roll of his optics) but Frenzy was smarter than Rumble, or at least able to use plain old common sense better than him but… why _did_ it go after him? Rumble would have probably of been an easier target.

Frenzy shook it off, every now and then he would come back to analyze the question, but he could never find an answer that suited him. Perhaps he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and it was just bad luck that he was the one to go into the Bell Tower, and besides what did it matter now anyway?

Like the humans constantly said '_It's all in the past'_… or some slag like that.

* * *

Thundercracker's optics panned up to the ceiling lights, the flickering driving him nearly insane. It had been going on for the past couple of months and enough was enough already. Skywarp also found himself annoyed by the lights, since it was currently happening in Seeker Hall. It was weird how the problem was jumping from one hall to another. Last time he checked it was in Stunticon Hall and then in Seeker Hall, then to Combaticon Hall and now it was back again. _What the slag._

"I thought Hook fixed the fragging light problem in our hall," said Skywarp.

"He did," Thundercracker replied.

Skywarp scoffed. "Perfectionist my aft."

Thundercracker smirked at Skywarp's remark as they headed for the doors of the Common Room. The doors slid open, revealing several mechs already occupying the area, the usual visitors; Blitzwing, Astrotrain, Swindle, Vortex and Brawl, the Cones, Rumble, Frenzy and of course the Stunticons who were surprisingly getting along and not beating the slag out of each other… _it wouldn't last long_.

Thundercracker and Skywarp took their usual spot; the table in the far left corner and far from the Stunticon and Triple Changer's tables. Skywarp already had his optics set on the Energon Dispensor in the corner. "You need refueling TC?" Skywarp asked.

"Yeah why not," Thundercracker shrugged.

"Well…" smiled Skywarp, "Could you get me one too, oh buddy oh pal?"

Thundercracker rolled his optics. "But you're a teleporter, you can get it much faster than I." This was a game that Skywarp always dragged him into; which one had the better, creative excuse. Thundercracker, who didn't usually fall for it, was in the mood for it today and that was the only reason he decided to play along.

"Yes but I'll waste energy doing that," Skywarp lazily answered, a smirk on his face. "Besides, I went on patrols today."

"Yes but I had to have my audios exposed to Starscream's ranting about how he will someday be lord of everything in the universe," Thundercracker replied, the faintest trace of a rare, humorous smile gracing his face.

"Slag, really TC?" Skywarp asked, breaking character briefly.

Thundercracker frowned, also breaking character. "Yes unfortunately that is true."

Skywarp sighed and then, "Alright fine I'll get them."

Thundercracker smiled briefly before his purple and black friend teleported from sight and then returned back shortly with two cubes. When Thundercracker was handed his, he could already see something wrong with it.

"Can I have a full cube Skywarp or are you rationing them for some unexplainable reason?" Thundercracker teased.

Skywarp's optics flickered in a befuddled stare. Looking down at the cubes he was finally able to discover the reason for Thundercracker's unusual remark. The cubes, although new and should have no reason to of been touched previously, already looked like there was a sip take out of them. It was a very small amount, but it was enough to raise a brow plate at.

"Huh… that's weird," Skywarp said, somewhat to himself. "I'll go get another set; I don't know whose lip components have already soiled it."

"That's probably wise," agreed Thundercracker.

Skywarp teleported to the waste dispenser and set the cubes the side of it; no sense in wasting energon but he certainly wasn't going to drink out of them. As Skywarp busied himself Thundercracker's glance fixed on Ravage who had just entered the Common Room. Thundercracker never really took an interest in Soundwave's creations, but Ravage's odd behavior certainly caught his attention.

Ravage's usually mellow attitude appeared to of been violently disturbed. The cyber panther's front legs were huddled closer to the ground, as if in a defensive mode. Thundercracker also noticed there was that unmistakable glint in the cat's optics, as if prepared to attack a potential threat.

Skywarp returned with two full cubes and sat across from Thundercracker, finally taking the opportunity to take a sip. Thundercracker's gaze was still fixed on Ravage, who after a series of scans in the Common Room stalked out and disappeared.

Thundercracker immediately searched for an explanation. Sure Ravage was mean-spirited, but there was always a good reason why the cyber-cat would be on edge—especially in their fortress. Thundercracker decided to push it to the side; no need to blow out his cerebro chips on something that wasn't his business anyway.

Still… he _was _curious.

Skywarp huffed as Thundercracker rolled his optics; the malfunctioning lights seemed to of followed them to the Common Room, as if there was no escape from the pesky and unexplained annoyance.

* * *

**A/N:** _Hope I was able to capture your interest and as always I welcome reviews._


	2. Breaking Mirrors

**A/N:** I have never posted a chapter so fast. I'm usually painfully slow to wait on; grass grows faster than the time it takes me to update a story! With that being said, I hope I can keep on this updating-roll I'm on for you lovely reviewers/readers! :)

Many thanks to the reviews, favs and alerts for this diabolical and twisted ghost story of mine. :D

Enjoy and review if you wish!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Decepticons/Autobots but any Original Characters belong to me…

* * *

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 2**

**"Breaking Mirrors"**

One Earth Day was far too long to wait for the Decepticon's next mission.

It was a combination of many things: the cabin fever that had hit nearly everyone in the Nemesis, the illogical flickering lights that kept jumping from hall to hall (now currently back in Combaticon Hall) and lastly the constant annoyance of finding _'touched cubes'_.

Swindle glanced from his table to the large pile of energon cubes that had been placed by the Waste Dispenser in the Common Room, everyone following suit with what Skywarp had done (not wanting to waste them but also not wanting to put their lips to something most likely defiled).

Swindle yawned, placing his chin in the palm of his hand as his optics dimmed tiredly behind his purple visor.

A week had passed by and the Decepticons were starting to experience the effects of all three—the Combaticons out of everyone else for the moment as insomnia struck every team member who had quarters in the unfortunate hall.

"Insecticons… or some stupid slaggin' prank by Rumble and Frenzy so they can get all the cubes they want," Vortex tiredly uttered, offering his conspiracy theory to the Swindle, who he sat across the table from him.

"If it was the Insecticons they would have just taken them," yawned Swindle, his chin nearly falling out of his hand like a High School student trapped in a boring class lecture. "Why… why just take sips? To bug us?"

"I don't know…" Vortex groaned sleepily before he finally let his head lower to the table. Swindle followed suit almost immediately as his head dropped carelessly with a loud bang, catching the attention of Astrotrain and Blitzwing.

"What's wrong with them?" asked Blitzwing, raising an optic ridge.

"They haven't been recharging. From what I've heard from Reflector the lights have kept waking them up—it's happening in their quarters now," Astrotrain answered, an energon goodie sneaking towards his mouth. Blitzwing suddenly reached out and whacked Astrotrain's shoulder plates.

"What the frag, you have energon? Give it here!" Blitzwing ordered brusquely.

"Get your own, or drink one of the soiled cubes," was Astrortain's reply, his round helmet nodding towards the energon pile next to the Waste Dispenser.

"Frag that! It won't kill you to give me one," Blitzwing said, shoving Astrotrain in the chest with a rough hand. Astrotrain shoved back in an almost humored gesture. Blitzwing shoved back. Astrotrain returned the shove—harder. Blitzwing's optics narrowed under his visor and he pushed back with both of his hands, causing Astrotrain to harshly bump into their table.

Astrotrain snaked a foot behind the back of Blitzwing's legs and tripped him, causing his fellow Triple-Changer to fall on his back. Astrotrain grinned, reaching to place another energon goodie in his mouth when suddenly he joined Blitzwing on the floor.

Astrotrain quickly shoved the energon goodie into his mouth when Blitzwing made a reach for it; Astrotrain chewed, smiling. "I win."

* * *

Starscream scowled as he passed through Combaticon Hall. Even though he had only experienced the nuisance once (in The Hallway of the High Command, where his quarters were) he still couldn't help turning a passive nothing into an infuriating something— it was his nature after all.

_"Flicker, flicker, flicker_," Starscream spat distastefully like an angry, screechy Shakespeare reciting poetry. "I **HATE** these flickering lights!"

"Welcome to the organization of mutual hatred," called a tired Blast Off from his quarters.

Starscream snarled at the sarcastic comment. Starscream stopped in the Combaticon's doorway looking in to see the shuttle mech on his berth with his arm draped over his visor. Starscream couldn't help but remain quiet…

"Wake up!" he ordered, when Blast Off refused to comply Starscream's face crumpled into a sour look. "I'm glad there is no one in this hall besides myself to witness your lazy presence Blast Off… it humiliates me just looking at you."

"Please Starscream must you start talking, how's a mech to recharge?" was Blast Off's reply.

Starscream scoffed. "Forgive me Blast Off, but let me ask you, how is a mech to stay awake once _you_ start talking?"

"That was wonderful," Blast Off replied, "Now let's hear you come up with a response that doesn't involve you stealing from one of my previous statements."

"It is only logical that you should receive a meager copy of your own statement, for I have no desire to waste precious energy thinking of a statement too worthy of you, Combaticon… you are _not_ worth the effort."

Blast Off smiled. "You have a lyrical way with cynical remarks Starscream, which is why you lack a single confidant that can stand you. A wall has a better personality than you; it doesn't talk back for one."

"Then I'll leave you to make friends with your wall since I tire of hearing lackluster and pathetic retorts," Starscream spat, leaving the Combaticon's doorway.

"Good," Blast Off said. "I'd rather have my quarter lights flicker than try to recharge with a coward's voice in my audios."

Starscream didn't hear his last remark, otherwise he would have turned around. Instead Starscream's processor quickly erased the bicker between him and the forgettable mech; Blast Off was petty compared to the silver and black veteran who Starscream often exchanged heated words with. He didn't care what Megatron said to him—he would have his say whether Megatron wanted to hear him or not.

The Decepticons needed to attack closer to the Nemesis rather than wasting it on a source farther away; even if the oil field provided more than the one the Air Commander had his optics on. Megatron's plan would _still_ be waste of time and energy with nothing to gain—especially now with the 'spoiled' energon cubes appearing and piling up.

Starscream passed through the Hallway of the High Command (an entire stretch of hallway dedicated for Soundwave and Starscream; their quarters unfortunately across the hall from one another's).

He paused suddenly, the corner of his upper lip component lifting up into a snarl. He turned and looked behind him. Starscream glared at the reminder of another thing to add to his laundry list of things to complain about to Megatron…

Starscream tilted his head like an angry cat, a furnace of malevolent feelings erupting inside him as he watched the lights overhead continue to flicker, as if to personally agitate him. Starscream raised his arm and fired, fixing the light problem himself.

* * *

The long tiresome day eventually departed, along with the Decepticons participating in the mission, leaving Rumble and Frenzy behind in the base.

99.99 % of the time when they were left behind they were happy; it was the perfect opportunity to set up pranks for unsuspecting mechs. Unfortunately for them this time, it was the .01% they felt. They would have loved to of gotten out of the base but they weren't needed.

In Storage Room 16-A, which was the two twins sort of top-secret hangout, they pondered in silence; nothing coming to their processors of what they could do.

Frenzy sat upon on one of many rusty boxes, his chin in his palm and his elbow resting on his leg. Rumble meanwhile preoccupied himself by batting scrap metal with a rod he had found lying around the Storage Room; swinging it like a metallic Babe Ruth... just not as talented.

Frenzy's head turned to Rumble's direction, watching him with boredom and that was when a miracle occurred; he had an idea.

"Frag! Missed it!" cried Frenzy, shrugging his shoulders and letting the tip of metal bat clink to the floor.

"Alright my turn," Rumble called from the other side of the hallway as he picked up the large bulky and round piece of crushed metal they had fashioned into a rough baseball. Rumble picked up the same ball that Frenzy had used and hurled it into the air, swinging his bat and sending it towards the flickering ceiling lights in Combaticon Hall.

The ball shattered into the light, ceasing the spasmodic flickering and making Rumble grin, "That's 5-2 now for this hall!"

"Eh shut-it slagger," Frenzy returned sorely, waving a hand through the air. Frenzy picked up another 'baseball'.

"One more and this one's' mine!" Frenzy called, batting the ball towards the light and with success he hit it. Frenzy jabbed his elbow through the air with victory, smiling. "Told ya!"

"Don't matter I still won," Rumble called from across the hall, leaning his weight on his bat like a professional ball player. "I got 7-4 in Stunticon Hall, 5-3 in Combaticon Hall, 4-1 in Seeker Hall, and 2-1 in High Command Hall—I win Frenz; you owe me ten cubes slag-sucka."

"Whatevah I'll get ya stupid cubes afthead," Frenzy said rolling his optics bitterly.

Rumble lifted his hand and brushed his fingertips through the air like a prissy high-maintenance femme, "Off ya go Frenzy I'm thirsty—and don't give me the ones that have been touched either!"

"Ahh go frag somethin'," Frenzy called over his shoulder plates, heading for the Common Room.

Rumble chuckled to himself as he swung his bat like a cane as he walked to Soundwave's quarters, glass from the ceiling lights crunching under his feet; a reminder of his victory.

* * *

Rumble sighed in boredom as he watched the human movie with a complete and utter lack of interest. It was the only thing to keep him busy while Frenzy took his sweet precious time getting back. It had been nearly six breems and he hadn't even returned with one cube! Slag the Common Room wasn't that far away!

Rumble eventually got bored of the human movie and switched it the human's news channels, incredibly boring but he wanted to see when Soundwave and the others were getting back.

Apparently it would be soon since the headline read that the Autobots had defeated the Decepticons. _Fraggin' slag…_

Speak of the Unmaker…

Rumble quickly turned off the monitor to hide the embarrassing headline as the sound of shouting and cursing down the hall increased to an overwhelming volume.

Two recognizable voices boomed into Rumble's audios when they appeared in the doorway. Megatron's optics suddenly narrowed at Starscream after he had heard Starscream's infuriating remark about his leadership. Megatron backhanded Starscream across the face. Starscream yelped as he landed on the floor violently and on the broken glass of the lights that the twins had just smashed.

Megatron pressed his foot into Starsream's face, painfully pinning the Seeker to the ground.

"Be _very_ careful Starscream," Megatron growled, pressing the Seeker's face into the floor harder as if to crush it to oblivion. "My tolerance for your constant whining is a thin as the line you walk."

Megatron ended with a firm kick to the Seeker's mid-section after his foot abandoned his face. Starscream's optics burned at the back of his leader's head as he stood, running the edge of his palm against his cheek; removing the glass that stuck to him.

Starscream retreated to his quarters, throwing Rumble an indignant look before he punched the keypad so hard Rumble swore the Seeker almost broke it. The doors slammed shut and Rumble rolled his optics. More Decepticons passed by, some injured, some functioning, but all livid…

Frenzy suddenly appeared in the door... not a cube in sight.

"Seriously what the frag Frenz, I've been waitin' here forever!" cried Rumble, jumping from the desk to the floor. "Where's my cubes?"

Frenzy shook his head, shuffling into the room slowly like a mech on the losing side of a fight. "We, we, we shouldn't…we shouldn't, have done that…" Frenzy stuttered, seemingly ignoring Rumble.

"What?"

Rumble couldn't tell if Frenzy was nodding or shaking his head, because his twin didn't seem to be able to choose between the two options as his head bobbed in an incoherent manner. "We shouldn't have done that…"

"Done what?" Rumble questioned, confused. "What the frag are you talkin' about Frenz?"

Frenzy sank his dental plates into his bottom lip plates, all the while staring at the floor to Rumble's right foot. "It was bad, very, very, very… bad, very bad… we shouldn't have done that."

Rumble snapped his fingers in Frenzy's face; Frenzy responding by casting a blank look in Rumble's direction. "What. The. Frag. Are. You. Talkin'. About!"

Frenzy's optics blinked and suddenly he staggered, as if he had suddenly lost his equilibrium, and placed a hand to his helm. "Huh?"

"Forget it!" Rumble exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. "I'll get the cubes my fraggin' self!"

Rumble stormed passed by Frenzy, huffing in annoyance as he exited the room. Frenzy shook his head, his processor scrambled. He snuck a hand under his visor and pinched the bridge between his optics. Finally when his dizziness did clear he quickly found himself narrowing his optics in confusion...

_When did he get back to Soundwave's room?_


	3. Where Evil Eats

**A/N:** Again I must thank everyone who has reviewed/fav/alerted/read this story- you are all marvelous! :D

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Decepticons/Autobots but any Original Characters belong to me...

* * *

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 3**

**"Where Evil Eats"**

As punishment for their lack of commitment and their terrible performance in the last raid (or at least in Starscream's deluded processor) Skywarp and Thundercracker were sent to the Nemesis's Energon Storage Room to help Dead End and Dirge.

Dead End and Dirge welcomed the unexpected help; it was their turn in the rotation and with the Seeker's forced there it would cut their time in half. One by one, the Seekers carried the energon cubes they had managed to grab before the Autobots had gotten the drop on them to the Energon Room; as much as they could carry in their arms and put them in front of Stunticon and Conehead who were counting and organizing the energon cubes to make more room.

Thundercracker and Skywarp walked out of the room and back to the spot Astrotrain had dumped the cubes before heading off to the Med Bay for the night.

"Screamer's gonna get it," growled Skywarp in a low voice, clearly displeased about their current chore.

"I heard he already did," Thundercracker said, not as angry as Skywarp but also not pleased about their current predicament.

"Yeah but once I would like it to be my fist and not Megatron's," commented Skywarp.

"Point taken," Thundercracker said before the two rounded the corner, heading towards the elevator doors and where the cubes were. As they gathered another set of cubes in their arms, a ceiling light flickered overhead for a moment before stopping; going unnoticed by the Decepticon Seekers. The flickering rounded the corner and one by one started to journey in the direction of the Energon Room.

Dirge continued to move cubes out of the way while Dead End kept his optics focused on the data-pad in his hand; his fingers continuingly punching and drawing new figures.

Both of them were halted briefly when the lights in the Energon Room began to flicker. They paused; the passive mechs slightly curious by the sudden malfunction, but that was all they perceived it to be and continued to work.

The lights would not be ignored…

Suddenly they shut off and the mechs were forced to stop what they were doing, the sound of electronics whirring down filling their audio receptors. Thundercracker and Skywarp appeared in the doorway, stopping when they noticed that the lights had shut off.

The Transformers glanced around the room, basked in the bronze glow of the surrounding energon cubes like travelers in a bioluminescent mushroom forest. The flyers and the ground-roller continued to look around the room, trying to find the reason for the lights sudden malfunction.

"Probably a breaker-chip glitchin'," said Skywarp, shrugging his shoulders passively. "Easy fix."

"Is the circuit box in this room?" asked Dirge.

"Duh," responded Skywarp.

The four mechs looked upon the massive storage room with a tired looks. The stacks of energon cubes towering over their very frames like archive boxes in the warehouse of an ancient museum. Small paths were made in such an emergency. To Dead End, with the lack of lights helping to set the mood, the Energon Room reminded him of an ominous labyrinth.

Dead End walked to the entry of the first path, the others following suit. Walking single-file they followed the path towards the west wall of the Energon Storage Room, the energon cubes giving them light as well as providing the walls of the maze.

Dirge, who was right behind the Stunticon, couldn't help but feel something changing in the atmosphere around them. His optics continually scanned the room in suspicion. It felt odd… almost as if something was off.

He wasn't the only one with feelings of trepidation…

Thundercracker couldn't help but notice it too as he walked behind the Conehead. There was an undeniable feeling of an invisible, heavy weight on his shoulder plates; as if the gravity in the room had all been gathered up and placed squarely on his shoulders. He couldn't explain the feeling, but it made him very anxious and he was uncomfortable with that.

Skywarp turned his head over his shoulder plates, looking over his wings. As he marched behind Thundercracker and the others deeper into the path the more he wanted to leave. There was a creepy feeling permeating all around them in the room that made him paranoid.

Dead End sensed a bad feeling too but chose to ignore it. The feelings could have been caused by a number of things: the mood, the lack of light, his fellow Decepticons walking in silence behind him. Although he had to admit, the feeling of another presence's optics upon them in the room was quite overwhelming; it was as if their every action was being scrutinized by a being with superior strength… and a malicious personality.

They eventually reached the circuit board of the Energon Room and Dead End went to work, punching in the codes on the keypad and opening the door of the circuit breaker box. Behind the Stunticon the others grouped around him as if to make sure he was doing it correctly.

Dead End found himself unable to do really anything. Every circuit was accountable and functioning properly... there was nothing wrong with them.

"Maybe the entire floor is knocked out and not the room," Dirge offered.

Thundercracker shook his head, "No, the hall lights are on— it's just the room."

Something metallic dropped behind them, making Skywarp turn in reaction towards the sound. The teleporter's optics scanned the path for what it was, but there was nothing to explain the sound. At first Skywarp thought it might be his imagination, but that was debunked when he saw that everybody was looking in the same direction.

"You guys here that too?" Skywarp asked.

"Clearly," Dead End said.

Something slammed behind them, making them jump. They turned, seeing the panel door had been shut; everyone mech distinctly remembered it being open.

"You shut that _right_ Dead End?" Dirge asked.

"No," Dead End responded.

"You were the one closest to it," Dirge pointed out.

"I assure you I did not shut it," Dead End replied.

Thundercracker's optics scanned the stack of energon cubes overhead, looking at the edges of them suspiciously; wondering if it was just him, or were they really being watched...

Thundercracker's optics brightened with momentarily alarm when he looked down the end of the path and saw a dark figure's head dart quickly to peek around the boxes at them and then disappear. There were two options in Thundercracker's processor that rationally explained the intruder: one, it was most likely a fellow Decepticon playing a joke on them, or two it was an Autobot. Whatever it was, it made Thundercracker's optics harden and his arm cannons power up.

"There's someone else in here with us," Thundercracker announced in a low voice to the rest of the group.

The others turned towards Thundercracker direction, looking down the path for evidence to support Thundercracker's statement.

"You see who it was TC?" questioned Skywarp in a whisper, in case the intruder was listening.

Thundercracker shook his head. They waited for another long, dark moment before Thundercracker finally began his trek towards the end of the hall. The unmistakable feeling of being watched coursing through the nervous group's circuitry.

Thundercracker set the pace of the group as he led them, picking up the pace as if to not give away the fact that the group was on edge; they were soldiers and a display of hesitance was a sign of weakness.

Finally they marched out of the path and back to where they began, searching around the room for the other mech; looking behind stacks of energon where he could be possibly be hiding. Dirge stood in the doorway of the path, in case the Autobot happened to be Mirage and wanted to sneak by them. Thundercracker and Skywarp headed for the exit of the Energon Storage Room and into the lighted hallway, the ceiling lights gracing the Seeker's forms as they passed by the cubes they had set down.

Dead End and Dirge in the meantime looked among the cubes of energon while the Seekers searched out in the hall. Moments later after the Seekers had left; a loud bang was heard, making the two morose mechs flinch in natural reaction.

"What was that?" Dirge asked.

"I don't know," Dead End answered, staring in the direction where the bang came—the vent by the left side of the door. "But it came from over here."

Dead End walked in the direction of the vent, leaned forward inspected it visually first before placing his hand on it. To his surprise he felt no air blowing across his hand, instead he felt a significant temperature drop around the grid; a cold spot.

"Probably another malfunction," assessed Dead End.

He drew his hand back, stood up straight and turned towards Dirge, pausing when he saw the horrified look on the Conehead's face; staring down the path they came. Dead End's optics narrowed in confusion as he went to stand next to him, looking down the path to see what he was staring at.

"What is it?" Dead End asked when he could find nothing but the energon cubes and the breaker box in his view.

Dirge didn't seem to hear him, as if trapped in some sort of trance. Dead End asked again and succeeded in snapping Dirge out of his fearful stare down the path. Dirge seemed to relax after a moment, his optics blinking, seeming to be rebooting his logic circuits. Dirge shook his head. "Nothing..." Dirge said, still sounding a little unconvinced.

Dead End and Dirge turned back towards the Energon Room's door and stopped dead in their tracks, Skywarp and Thundercracker had also had done the same, standing in the doorway with the same look on all of the mech's face; a mix of confusion and horrified bewilderment.

The cubes that Skywarp and Thundercracker had left outside the doorway when they went to go check the breakers in the beginning had not only moved when Dead End and Dirge had their backs turned, but they were placed in the middle of the room and between the two teams of Decepticons, piled perfectly in a single column.

Dead End was the first to move after the Decepticons took a moment to stare at the cubes in petrified awe. He approached them, carefully touching them as if to make sure they were not an optical illusion; it wasn't.

Dead End reached for the only rational explanation he could think of. "I'm afraid I miss to understand the target of this prank Skywarp," Dead End said, looking at the black and purple Seeker, shaded between the dark Storage Room and the hallway lights.

Skywarp shook his head. "I didn't do it. Did you TC?"

Thundercracker raised an optic brow and turned to Skywarp, an exasperated look on his face that Skywarp read as an annoyed _'Seriously?' _

"It wasn't Dirge or I," Dead End announced, refusing to let his suspicion be put to rest. "And we all know your obsession with tricks Skywarp."

"I swear to Primus, it wasn't me," Skywarp replied, placing his hands in front of him in defense; his tone saying that he was just as baffled as the ground-roller.

An awkward silence drifted over the room; all the Decepticons trying to think of _whom_ and _why_.

They all came up blank…

* * *

Carrying a small tool-box and a ladder under his other arm, Hook walked to the Storage Room like a construction worker having to return back to work after a very long shift.

Hook was tired; tired of having his hard work coming up a failure. He was always thorough in his projects, right down to the last micro-wire. There was no reason why the lights in the Nemesis should be flickering as they did—they were being perfectly maintained by him. However he was still being overworked, both physically and mentally. On and on with the lights! He had just gotten done replacing the lights that Rumble and Frenzy had knocked out—and for once he had to allow himself to relate to the twins because he was not far behind from doing the same thing.

Nearly every Earth day for the past couple months it was an ongoing chore that was wearing down his high self-esteem. He could tolerate a lot of things, but imperfect work on his part he could not.

He entered the room, setting down the ladder for later and proceeded towards the path that would take him to the breaker box. Hook paused, taking another glance at the odd energon column in the middle of the room. He wondered why the others had left it stacked like it was but quickly shook it out of his processor; no sense on wasting time on thinking about such unimportant random actions by his fellow Decepticons.

Hook walked through the dark path, the energon casting light over the Constructicon's frame. He reached the box and immediately set to work, opening it and inspecting the circuits like Dead End did before.

As he worked, he all of a sudden began to feel more and more uncomfortable. It started to slow his work as he tried to place what the feeling was; he compared it to being in a claustrophobic environment with livid optics burning in the back of his helm. Hook ignored it, losing himself in his work.

Like Dead End he concluded nothing wrong with the box. Somewhat displeased he double-checked, still finding himself coming to the same conclusion.

Settled but at the same time feeling as if it was uncompleted he shut the box and walked back up the path and to the spot his ladder was. He found his optics staring at an empty floor instead.

His ladder had vanished.

Hook's optics began scanning the room, searching for his missing tool. For several minutes he couldn't find it and he knew for a fact where he had left it. His optical scanners narrowed in on something peculiar; his ladder placed on top of the energon column.

Hook rolled his optics in annoyance.

Skywarp, he was the only one that could have done it without him noticing it.

Hook walked towards the energon pile, standing on the tips of his metal feet trying to reach it. He stopped when he found it out of his reach. Instead he grasped the end of his crane hook and started to pull, unwinding the cable. When he finished and he had enough, he began to swing it, hoping to be able to use it as a grappling hook and bring the ladder down.

He swung the cable in his hand, making a large circle. It slowed for a moment as the Constructicon became momentarily distracted by a very unusual feeling; the same feeling he felt when he was looking at the circuit box but only more intense, as if there was someone looking at him two inches at the back of his neck; it's optics boring into the Constructicon with every inch of malice and contempt it could muster into a stare.

Hook ignored it; it was his imagination and nothing else.

He swung and was able to wrap the cable around the leg of the ladder with success. With a tug he pulled it down and caught it.

He dropped the ladder with an uncaring clang and fell to his knees, feeling very dizzy and incredibly tired; as if his energy was drained. It was sudden—too sudden and it made him worried. His processor ached with such intensity that he was unable to even get his optics to focus correctly.

His optics brightened violently as the lights suddenly flashed on like blinding fog lights and as suddenly as his sickness had come. Slowly he worked himself up until he was standing, a little dizzy but much better than a few moments ago.

Hook stared at the lights in confusion; why had they come on, and what was their malfunction previously? It didn't matter, whatever it was they were working and that suited the Constructicon. Now he just needed to inspect them more thoroughly…

His spark was suddenly enveloped with a strong negative feeling. He wanted to leave. There was an intuitive feeling in his spark that he had to leave the room as soon as possible; as if his very life depended on it. However as much as he wanted to leave, and despite how tired he was, there was a job to be done and he would always get it done.

Hook's gaze suddenly fell upon the energon cube on the top of the column. His optics narrowed in confusion as the cube's liquid slowly began to disappear like water in a bathtub; sinking to the bottom and vanishing…

Hook was thrown off his feet and dragged by his own cable out of the storage room. He was so unprepared that he didn't even comprehend what had happened until he found himself outside in the hall, the ladder still attached by his cable a few yards away from him. Shaken, he stood; ready to attack the mech that had forcibly dragged him out by using the ladder still attached to him. But he could not find anyone; there was nobody there but him.

Hook looked over his shoulder plates, his optics widening at what he saw… a large black mist the shape of a humanoid figure had manifested in front of the door, stabbing Hook with a cold, dreadful alarm that swept through his circuitry and into the very depths of his spark.

He did nothing, frozen stiff and finding himself unable to understand what it was. Was it a glitch? A smudge in his optic lenses?

He wasn't able to study it any further as the doors suddenly shut close of their own accord, leaving the Constructicon alone and without answers.

* * *

**A/N:** Hope this chapter fed your appetite but hopefully still left you wanting for more! :) Many thanks for reading and review if you want to.


	4. Victims of Nocturnal Clichés

_**A/N:**_Thank you once again for the review and kind words. :)

Since we are getting deeper into the story and the entity will be revealing himself more and more, I must inform you that because of what I have planned, the rating may go up to 'M'. The subject matter that I intend to explore will become disturbing to some. It won't be for awhile, but I thought it would be best to give people fair warning.

* * *

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 4**

**"Victims of Nocturnal Clichés"**

Dead End walked back to his own quarters after he had delivered the inventory report to Soundwave. Dirge walked beside him, as silent as the Stunticon and just as lost in his thoughts; both still trying to wrap their processors about what could have moved the energon cubes without them noticing—and why? To cause them mental frustration?

Dead End still thought it was one of Skywarp's pranks—there was no one else that could have moved them.

Dirge had accepted his fellow somber mech's claim; it was rational. On the other hand, there was a feeling in his spark that debated against the rational explanation; a feeling that said that he had actually seen and humanoid shadow move from one energon wall to the next. He shook his head, who would believe him? Slag he didn't even believe himself!

Dirge and Dead End stepped into the elevator, Dead End taking the initiative as usual and pressed the button to his level (Stunticon Hall). Dirge pressed the button to his own level afterwards. The elevator reached Dirge's level first and he stepped out, neither mechs in the mood for their usual morbid chit-chat sessions.

"Good night Dead End," Dirge muttered.

"Good night," Dead End exchanged, the elevator doors closing.

The elevator reached Stunticon Hall and Dead End walked to his quarters, not surprised to see havoc already brewing before bedtime. Motormaster was as usual yelling at Wildrider, Dragstrip and Breakdown (who was cowering behind his hell-driven brothers). To what about Dead End didn't care and went to his doors, his hand not even able to touch the keypad before his leader's fury was directed at him.

"Ah Dead End you're here!" his leader called behind him, planting a rough hand on Dead End's shoulders and dragging him to his own quarters. "Perhaps you can explain this to me!"

At first Dead End could detect nothing wrong with his leader's dark quarters, but he looked for closely and saw that his leader's quarter's lights were out and his storing cabinets had been opened and the contents placed neatly on Motormaster's recharge berth.

"Perhaps you have done that yourself while searching for something," Dead End replied coolly, carefully treading through the stormy seas of Motormaster's patience. "And perhaps you broke the lights when you forced Dragstrip out of your quarters last cycle."

"I would have remembered if I knocked out my own lights—and the way I left my quarters!" Motormaster returned. "It was either you or the others; nobody else knows my quarter codes!"

"Then perhaps it was the others," Dead End said, trying to squirm out of Motormaster's grip with little avail. "I was in the Energon Storage Room assisting Dirge—it could not have been me."

A sharp, but muffled pop rang through the air, followed by another and another (three in total) interrupting the Stunticon's quarrel. They looked at each other and then decided to investigate what the noise was. Motormaster released his hold on Dead End, letting him go for now and joining the others in their search.

Breakdown peeked in his quarters and gasped. "My quarter lights are busted—they were working fine and now they are broken!"

Dragstrip narrowed his optics and marched over to his quarters, "Mine are too!"

Wildrider went to inspect his. "What the frag!"

Curious, Dead End went over to his quarters… and found his lights to be functioning properly. Motormaster and the others came over to Dead End's quarters and immediately scowled.

"Why is yours the only one fine Dead End?" questioned the Stunticon leader suspiciously.

"I assure you I do not know," Dead End replied tiredly; repeating the same sentence over and over in a cycle was so very boring.

"Well I think you do," Dragstrip piped, crossing his arms across his chest.

"If my random luck with the lights bothers you all so much dear brothers I shall inform Hook that your lights are out," Dead End simply said, slightly annoyed.

Quickly before the others could get another word in, Dead End snuck into his quarters and shut the door behind him, finally able to replenish the serenity solitude brought. Taking his time he sat down in his chair, punching in Hook's computer feed and waited for the Constructicon to answer the call.

Silently he glanced up at the ceiling at his quarter lights; another strange occurrence to add to his already growing list of unexplained phenomenon.

_"Hook here, what is it?"_

Dead End turned his chair to greet the unhappy Constructicon. He couldn't blame him for his foul mood after Rumble and Frenzy had down with the lights, after all he was the one to clean up their mess.

"I'm sorry to trouble you Hook but I'm afraid it has to do with the lights once again," Dead End said, his voice proper but not exactly apologetic.

_"You and your Stunticon brothers will have to wait. I have much to deal with at the present moment. Skywarp and Thundercracker informed me that the Energon Storage Room lights are out as we speak."_

"Yes they are," answered Dead End.

_"That room is my priority in regards to light problems—you will have to wait,"_ Hook finished.

"I understand, but I'm merely telling you that my teammate's quarter lights have just gone out and it is not my wrath you will receive if the problem goes unfixed."

_"Tell your teammates that I will get to it—but after I correct the more pressing issues on my list."_

"That is the third time you have said that you have other issues. I understand and I bore of hearing it repeated," Dead End said.

_"Careful... I'm not in the mood Dead End,"_ Hook warned. _"Next time you see me I might be careless with your fuel lines."_

"Death threats do not do not frighten me I hear them often," Dead End shot back. "And we both know that your perfect ego would not allow you to slip— even for personal revenge."

_"I will be in Stunticon Hall in the next two cycles, refrain from destroying more in the meantime—Hook out."_

Dead End ignored Hook. He had always known that the Constructicon had never liked him even though he never put up a fuss during repairs. Hook was tired of hearing Dead End rambles about of how he should let death come and medical aid was only prolonging the inevitable.

Dead End heard sounds in the next room, accompanied by the sound of a thunderous explosion and primitive gunfire; another one of Dragstrip and Wildrider's movie nights.

Dead End moved to lie on his recharge berth, giving in to his systems need for recharge. He shut off his optics and with voice-command his lights to do the same. Falling to sleep to the sound of Wildrider's atrocious taste in human movies muffled through the walls nosily.

Soon the other Stunticons succumbed to sleep, their quarter doors shut promptly and their hall left dark and undisturbed.

* * *

Hook passed by through Stunticon Hall. His ladder under his arm—the cable still attached—and his optics darting frantically around the hallway. He could feel something follow him; it didn't abandon him just because the Energon Storage Room doors had shut. He didn't know who or what it was, but it continued to pursue him. He pretended not to pay attention to it, but its presence was hard to deny. He could almost taste the bitter atmosphere around him; it was as potent as Blast Brew.

When Hook reached the end of Stunticon Hall he suddenly felt more relaxed, even though he still felt the presence of optics boring into the back of his helm, the same strange air hanging around him.

Hook pressed on, determined to latch onto an explanation as logical as he was.

He would have the fortunate luxury of being unbothered for the rest of the night... because the being following him was suddenly reminded of the other toys it could play with.

* * *

Breakdown onlined his optics with a start, his paranoia once again robbing him of another full night's rest. As his systems went to work cooling his overheated circuitry, he scanned every inch of his claustrophobic room. He had always hated his room— it was far too small for him.

The doors of his room suddenly slid open, making the Stunticon jump. A dark and empty corridor greeted him. He would have understood if it was another of the Stunticons wanting something from him, but there was nobody outside the door which not only confused him, but frightened him.

As Breakdown sat in the darkness, the sound of footsteps drawing near his door was heard, sending a shiver through him.

Like out of a human horror movie (one that Wildirder forced him to watch) they grew closer and closer, almost pounding in Breakdown's audio receptors.

Breakdown couldn't remain still, even though it felt as if his whole form was welded to the berth. He sprang forward and latched his hand on his keypad, his door closing as he backed into his wall. He relaxed, unable to hear the footsteps any more. He went over to lie on his berth again, forcibly trying to put it out of his processor and thinking it as nothing but a hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation.

Breakdown shot up when he heard loud and thunderous banging on his walls... coming from_ inside_ his own room.

Breakdown shrunk into the corner cowering, the banging growing nearer and nearer to him; making him feel like a mousebot trapped in the corner by a malicious feline.

They stopped, leaving Breakdown stunned, making him wonder if he was having what the humans called a nightmare. No, that was dumb, Transformers didn't dream. That only made Breakdown shiver even more, knowing that he was trapped with someone else in his quarters—an invisible intruder.

Breakdown composed himself and drew his weapon out, pointing it front to him and waiting for the intruder to revel himself.

The night had never dragged on so long.

* * *

Dragstrip was next.

Wildrider and Dragstrip were passed out in Wildrider's quarters, Dragstrip on the floor by his friend's berth while Wildrider slept in a sitting position in the corner, his High Grade spilled and dripping onto Dragstrip's legs. The room filled in the patchy ivory glow of static from the monitor screen from when their movie had ended.

Dragstrip drowsily awoke, feeling something trickling on him. Tiredly he raised his head and saw the alcoholic lubricant spilling on him from the berth. Lazily he moved his leg and looked to the monitor screen.

"Shut off," he commanded, the monitor complying and sending the room into darkness.

He had only gotten in a couple of relaxing minutes when suddenly he felt something grab him and pull him under Wildrider's recharge berth, movement nearly impossible under the cramped space.

What felt liked another body pressed on top of him, pinning him under the berth. Dragstrip fought against the invisible mech when he felt it clawing at sensitive wiring in his neck joint. Dragstrip kicked and punched in defense, sometimes missing his target and instead hitting Wildrider's berth.

Wildrider woke when he felt his berth bucking wildly, nearly ripping itself off the wall.

Rebooting his systems quickly he jumped off the berth... and narrowed his optics when he saw it was Dragstrip kicking his berth.

"Very funny frag face," Wildrider called to fellow Stunticon, thinking that his actions were nothing but an immature prank.

"Get this slag sucker off me!"

Wildrider frowned when he heard his fellow Stunticon's voice with was filled with genuine panic and trouble. Wildrider reached under and grabbed his friend by the arm, pulling him out. Dragstrip flung himself away from the berth, hitting Wildrider's messy desk, fear upon his face.

"What's wrong?"

Dragstrip pointed to the berth. "Something fraggin' attacked me!"

"Huh?"

"Someone pulled me under!"

Wildrider, with a baffled but vengeful expression, charged and ducked his head under his berth… finding nobody.

Dragstrip's dilemma was forgotten when they heard the unmistakable roar of their Stunticon leader across the hall. The racers glanced at each other before walking towards the door, opening it and trying to walk through, both of them getting stuck when they tried to escape at the same time. They backed into the room, Wildrider exited first and then Dragstrip.

To their astonishment, Motormaster's quarter doors were already opened, allowing them to see their leader on the floor, a surprised but angry glow in his optics. He stood, fuming and searching wildly for the mech that had dragged him off his berth. Breakdown and Dead End also came out of their quarters, trying to see what the ruckus was about and how it pertained to the angry Kenworth.

Motormaster pointed a finger at Dragstrip and Wildrider. "Where did that pile of reject parts go!" he questioned brusquely, stepping into the hallway and searching for any sign of the intruder.

The smaller vehicles just looked at him like deer caught in his headlights. "We didn't see anybody—but someone attacked Dragstrip."

"Someone attacked me too!" Breakdown called.

"Nothing happened to me," Dead End said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Are you calling us liars Dead End?" questioned Dragstrip, raising a fist in his direction.

"No," Dead End replied, turning his head away as if disinterested. "Perhaps it was Skywarp, he enjoys such lackluster things."

"Him or not someone fraggin' pulled me off my own berth!" Motormaster bellowed. "And they are not going to see the next cycle with their arms attached to their body!"

With that Motormaster charged down the hall, the other Stunticons following behind him and starting their search for the jokester who had visited them. Dead End stayed behind, not interested in their troubles.

What felt like a cold breeze blew across the back of Dead End's neck joint. It was odd, but he remained calm. Dead End turned slowly, trying to see where it had come from.

He turned sharply when he heard the sound of footsteps entering his quarters. He approached with slight hesitance, positive that he heard footsteps but at the same time skeptical.

He stepped into the doorway, pausing when he failed to find the intruder. His next course of action would have been to shrug and go back to sleep, but instead he found himself glued to the floor; the uncomfortable feeling that he felt in the Energon Storage Room had returned.

His hand lifted to his helm, an unexplained nausea engulfing him and fogging his processor. As the sickness progressed, he suddenly felt as if the energon was being drained from his very fuel lines; increasingly making him dizzy and tired.

Through the fog he heard his name called, but not addressed to him in Cybertronian, in a human language—English if he remembered correctly.

As his processor cleared, his name was called more and more, the voice growing deeper and aggressive. He covered his audio receptors, annoyed by the vocals, but despite his shield they still penetrated, almost as if they were echoing in his processor.

Then it stopped and there was nothing but silence. Dead End moved his hands from his helm.

His quarter room lights suddenly popped, sending the room into darkness. Dead End sighed; it was only appropriate that his lights would break too, joining the fate of the other lights in Stunticon Hall.

Ironically, the atmosphere became more relaxed when the lights went out, as if the intruder had left. Appropriate considering that Dead End did not feel tired anymore, just confused.

Mental frustration must have been the objective after all.

* * *

Dead End later found out that the other Stuntions were unable to find anyone lurking around the Nemesis besides Starscream who often stalked the base at night. Dead End remained passive, but at the same time curious since the intruder had also visited him. He chose to not dwell upon it, whoever the intruder was it appeared that he was gone.

A week had passed without disturbance; energon cubes were full, the lights had stopped flickering and moods were stabilized. Those who had experienced a phenomenon kept it to themselves. If there was a mech in the base that was still appeared unsettled it was Thundercracker. He didn't know why he just couldn't push it out of his processor, although he knew they were too ludicrous for his logical processor. Something just didn't feel right; as if he was still carrying the ominous weight on his shoulder plates. But as always, he kept his thoughts to himself.

* * *

Insomnia wasn't a stranger to Starscream, he experienced it often when malevolent thoughts about his leader ran through his processor night and day. He walked the corridors, brainstorming ways he could overthrow Megatron and better the Decepticon cause, thoughts that usually brought a smile to his lips when he took his nocturnal walks.

Soundwave rounded the corner, wiping the smile from Starscream's lips and replacing it with a scowl. It wasn't unusual to see Soundwave up late, after all Megatron and his projects were always Soundwave's top priority. Still... he hated sharing anything in common with that lapdog; especially walking the corridors while others recharged—they were his time to think and muse!

The two passed each other, Starscream not even acknowledging his presence with a cynical remark or an accidental shove in the shoulder plates.

Starscream entered the elevator, deciding to take his walks to another part of the base. Much to his annoyance the elevator suddenly halted, making Starscream sigh in agitation; he was in no mood for any malfunctions.

His blue fingers set to work, pressing characters on the keypad, trying to see which level he was on.

He was near the Energon Storage Room. His fingers were centimeters away from the elevator's override panel when suddenly the lights began to flicker. He laughed in angered disbelief; his patience for the lights had run out.

Why not just turn off? Why the annoying flickering?

As if his wish had been granted they suddenly shut off, sending the elevator into darkness. Starscream's red optics slanted in the dark.

He whirled around, his solitude disturbed by a dead and absolute feeling in his spark that he was not alone. For millennia he had learned to watch his back and he knew the difference between paranoia and when someone was actually watching him; it was the latter.

Someone with a deep and graveled voice laughed at him, faintly and right into his audio receptors.

He continued to inspect the elevator, scanning furiously for the other occupant. He could find nobody.

Even though he was positive that he had heard somebody, he dismissed it and returned back to the elevator's override panel, opening it and shifting through the wires and circuits. Without him having to do anything, the elevator whirred back to life, the lights also turning back on. He smirked and closed the panel.

He froze.

In the glossy chrome surface he could make out the reflection of a dark figure behind him, as tall but nothing on his form to indicate if he was a flier or a ground-roller. It was almost as if he shaped like those insufferable organics.

He scoffed slightly and turned to greet the other; ironically comforted to know that it hadn't been his imagination.

He greeted nothing.

He scanned the elevator in a befuddled fury.

The doors of the elevator slid open and Starcream found himself at the very hall he had begun; the one that he had just passed Soundwave in.

Starscream let out a startled yelp when he was suddenly thrown off balance, landing face first on the floor with a pained grunt. An angered scowl stretched upon his face. He pressed his hands against the floor and rotated, aiming his arm cannons in the direction of the elevator.

"NO ONE PUSHES ME—"

Precisely. Nobody had pushed him; the elevator was empty. He fired into the elevator angrily as if to vent his anger. His shots hit the wall and the elevator doors closed, leaving the Seeker fuming on the ground. Starscream didn't stay on the floor for long; he lifted himself up and waited for the elevator to stop, pinpointing the invisible mech's location.

He grinned wickedly, revenge on the processor and gave chase—this time using the stairs.

* * *

Frenzy woke to find Soundwave gone and the other Cassettes (Rumble, Ravage and himself) using Soundwave's berth to recharge. Frenzy glanced up at the wall, seeing Laserbeak, Buzzsaw and Ratbat (who recharged upside-down like the organic animal he mimicked) perching and sleeping soundly.

Frenzy sat up and jumped off the berth, not in the mood to recharge.

Stalking the Hall of the High Command, he sighed. For split astro-second he wished that Rumble was with him... then again, maybe not.

Rumble had been giving him a lot of slag about something that didn't even happen. Something about returning back to Soundwave's quarters and stuttering like an idiot about 'not doing something'.

Frenzy nearly had to run out of the way when an irate Starscream came around the corner, searching in fury for something. Starscream noticed Frenzy. "Did you see anybody come through here runt?"

Frenzy narrowed his optics under his visor. "No Screamer I haven't—why don't ya try and being quieter, the whole base can hear ya comin!"

Starscream didn't have time to enter into a heated chit-chat with the inferior mech and instead trudged on. Frenzy rolled his optics under his visor; he always knew that Starscream was crazy...

Frenzy whirled around when he heard footsteps that didn't belong to him. They were lighter, softer, closer...

His audios screeched and he fell to his knees covering his helm, unconsciously crying out in pain from the static attack. It began to fade, but not completely. He rose back to his feet, his hands still covering his audio receptors. When he rose, a horrifying realization hit him.

There was only one other time something similar to this happened.

He looked down the hall, just in time to see something that made his optics widen.

The memories of the haunted island flashed back through his memory banks with the intensity of a supernova when he saw the unmistakable doctor's coat. He passed by slowly, as if intently wanting Frenzy to see him.

It's organic optics bore into Frenzy as it flashed him an evil grin. Red life-blood poured thickly from his cranial head wound and down his neck to his clothes; the white doctor's coat emphasizing the blood more. There were no second thoughts about it, Frenzy knew exactly what it was.

It vanished from sight, leaving Frenzy shivering in the hall, the small mech suddenly starting to question his own sanity.

* * *

**A/N:** Banging on the walls, the beds shaking, seeing shadow and figures... clichés are fun. ;D Many thanks for reading and reviews are always welcomed. :)


	5. Basic Instincts

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 5**

**"Basic Instincts"**

Things grew progressively worse and more frequent, but even then the Decepticons in the Nemesis chose to keep their personal issues to themselves. Obligations were attended to despite the paranormal incidents that happened almost daily. For the most part, the mechs in the base were relatively calm.

Ravage was not.

For months he had a smelled a foul odor in the air and it had only gotten stronger. At first he thought it was nothing but the smell continued to hang in the air, penetrating his sensitive olfactory sensors. He wasn't able to identify what it was at first; he was surprised that he didn't pick up on it sooner given the fact of how long he had been on this planet.

There was something moving about the base that smelled organic, but wither it was a human or an animal he couldn't tell; his memory banks weren't unable to identify which one it was. Whatever it was, it was strange and unwelcome.

News about the activities in the base presented themselves to Ravage in the form of rumors and hushed conversations and they caught Ravage's attention; suspecting that the intruder might be linked to the events. So he kept on the prowl, intending to find out if the events and the intruder were irrelevant to each other or not and certainly let Soundwave know…

Speaking of his master, Ravage found it odd that Soundwave had not sensed the change in the base; he was more sensitive to activity than Ravage or the others. So why did Soundwave seem ignorant to the activity in the base… or perhaps he was just choosing to remain silent?

Ravage, knew that Soundwave could feel the presence, his instincts screamed that Soundwave was well aware of what was happening; he just refused to tell anyone.

* * *

Like any apartment building the Nemesis was infested with bugs, and like the everyday apartment roach the Insecticons knew how to get in when it came to food.

Shrapnel planted a foot against the vent; it easily flew off and into the Energon Storage Room. Crawling on his hands on knee plates, the small Con poked his head out, looked right and left then crawled out, his fellow insect partners following behind him. Their optics glowed with a gluttonous gleam as they looked over each energy cube like a bountiful feast… and it was theirs for plundering.

"Energy is ours—ours," smirked Shrapnel.

_**((I beg to differ.)) **_a voice hissed through the Insecticons' Communication channel. The Insecticons scowled universally as they saw Soundwave's house cat stalk from behind the energon cubes. Ravage narrowed his optics at the three parasites, speaking to them through their channel. _**((You three do not have authorization to be in here—ever.))**_

"Says who—who?" challenged Shrapnel. "You—you?"

_**((Says **__**Megatron**__**!))**_ Ravage returned, his fangs bearing at their disobedience.

"Yes... but he's not here _now_," Kickback grinned, pulling his mouth plates intently to expose his sharp dental plates.

"And in case you haven't noticed, you're outnumbered," Bombshell concluded.

Ravage narrowed his optics in anger. _**((Spare me the pathetic threats. I can contact Megatron and inform him before any of you can get your greedy servos on a single cube.))**_

The Insecticons just stared at Ravage, unphased by _his _threat. Kickback bit his bottom lip component, getting an idea of what to do with Ravage; a solution as malicious as the Insecticons were.

"Well," he smiled, "we can't have that now can we... _RIGHT _Bombshell?" Kickback nudged his fellow Insecticon with an elbow.

Bombshell's visor brightened when he realized the idea Kickback was nudging him with. "Yes... can't have Ravage telling Megatron at _ALL_."

A cerebro cell flew, landing on the cube behind Ravage; the cyber-cat quick to dodge the attack.

Ravage fled behind the cubes, escaping as more cerebro cells flew in his direction—heading for the exit of the Energon Storage Room.

_"Get 'em!" _Ravage heard Kickback call behind him, their hurried footsteps running after him. Quickly Ravage jumped on top of energon cube and then to another one higher up. He signaled Soundwave (since it was faster) informing him that the Insecticons were in the base.

Ravage finally reached the top of the energon walls and began running towards the exit. When he reached the end he leaped off, sailing through the air towards the exit. His paws landed on the floor gracefully and he bolted for the exit... until a pair of grasshopper feet kicked him in the side, knocking him away from the door.

Ravage skidded across the floor on his side until his back hit the energon cubes with a pained yowl. He rose, an aching dent in his side. He tried to get away from the hands that surrounded him but Shrapnel pulled him back by his metal tail. Ravage swung his claws violently, trying to swat the bugs away.

His efforts ended when Shrapnel grabbed his front paws and Kickback snatched onto his rear legs. Ravage bucked wildly, hissing savagely as he saw Bombshell approach—cerebro cell in hand.

"Prepare yourself—this will sting a little..." Bombshell said, smirking underneath his face-mask.

_**((So will this!))**_

Shrapnel cried out in pain, pulling his hands away in reaction when Ravage sunk his fangs into his hands. Ravage snarled and swiped at Kickback, managing to also get the grasshopper-con to release his legs. Ravage, now free, ran between Bombshell's legs and to the door, the Insecticons regaining themselves and running after him...

Their altercation was immediately forgotten when Ravage was suddenly hoisted up in the air by an invisible hand and was flung into Kickback's chest plate, knocking the Insecticon to the ground.

The mood between the four Decepticons changed rapidly when they took the moment to stop fighting... and felt the presence of a nefarious being lurking somewhere in the Storage Room; they could all sense it clearly.

Kickback's antennas twitched; there was energy radiating off another source that didn't belong to the Decepticons or the glowing cubes that surrounded them—a being of some sort; he knew what it was because it was continually moving.

When the Insecticons had adopted their earthly forms not only had they adopted their insatiable appetite but as time went on they became more accustomed to Earth's energy and the energy its inhabitants radiated. Now they were all able sense things, visible or invisible to the naked human eye; to see and feel even the faintest traces of energy. What the humans called a 'sixth sense'.

Ravage acquired his sixth sense another, more natural way: Firstly because Soundwave was his master and taught him how to detect energy changes, and secondly he was formatted for tracking and locating. With those two parts working together, he was able to sense and see what other Decepticons couldn't—and damn good at it too.

Ravage lifted himself up, snarling as his head lowered to the ground._** ((It's here.))**_

Kickback raised an optic ridge. "It?"

Ravage's optical scanners flickered to the Insecticon briefly. _**((The intruder.))**_

Thuds were heard around the Storage Room, spread around various sections of the room as if in an effort to confuse them, (as if the animal-cons needed noises to convince them of another presence in the room). Ravage growled deeply as he lowered his head, his optics slit in anger...

It was _toying _with them.

"We sense it too," said Shrapnel, his olfactory sensors inhaled a sample of air, "smells organic—organic. Smells terrible—terrible."

"Human..." Kickback added, submitting his own 'scientific analysis'.

Bombshell disagreed, shaking his head. "No. _Animal_; no human smells this bad."

Kickback quirked a metallic brow. "Humans _are_ animals and they _can_ smell this bad."

"I agree—agree," Shrapnel snickered.

"I'm telling you it's some sort of animal," Bombshell argued.

Ravage, who had very little interest in their discussion, began to search the Energon Storage Room, disappearing into one of the many paths.

The Insecticons remained behind and looked at each other and smiled; with Ravage gone there was nothing to prevent them from taking the energon cubes. They nodded to each other. Immediately, knowing that time was against them, they set to fuel themselves.

Their unique stomachs allowed the Insecticons to feed off organic sources, sustaining them like regular energon would do to regular Decepticons, however an intake of pure energy (energon cubes) sustained them longer than simply eating anything they could get their hands on.

Listening to their hungry lust and choosing to forget about the presence was a mistake... and the entity watching them found a way to remind them.

Kickback and Shrapnel, who were just in the process of taking their own sips, stopped when they noticed their fellow Insecticon dropping to his knees, coughing violently. Bombshell's systems immediately rejected the energon and began to spitting it out, trying to desperately rid himself of the disgusting tasting energon.

Kickback and Shrapnel stopped to investigate, each Insecticon on each of Bombshell's sides. They waited until Bombshell was done before they asked him what the problem was.

"D-Don't—don't drink it!" Bombshell coughed, pointing at the energon cube.

"Why? What's the problem?" questioned Kickback.

"It's vile!" Bombshell told them.

Shrapnel was going to ask him exactly how vile it tasted, but decided not to; understanding exactly how bad it actually was when he saw the energon cube that Bombshell had tried to consume. The liquid had turned black and oozed thickly from the broken cube like molasses. It wasn't long until Shrapnel and Kickback detected a disgusting fume in the air, most likely coming from the cube and equivalent to the smell of a thousand rotting organic corpses, it made their stomachs churn.

Bombshell saw the cube too and shuddered... he had put a lot of disgusting things in his mouth in order to continue to function (humans the other organic organisms on Earth) but this was the first time he could recall in millions of years in which he had suddenly developed a gag reflex.

Their circuitry went cold, as if they had just stepped onto the plains of a frozen tundra. They all looked at each other, simultaneously feeling their systems began to slow and the energy from their bodies being drained, confused as to what was causing it...

Until the Insecticons saw the presence on top of the energon cubes...

"That's not a human..." Kickback whispered to the others.

"That's not an animal..." said Bombshell.

The animosity it held towards the three radiated all around them, penetrating them all the way down to the pits of their hungry stomachs; as if a giant lead anvil had been dropped down their throats.

They knew perfectly well what dark humanoid monstrosity staring at them was; it was something they had seen before (not literally until now). Being awake on Earth so long, they knew what dark hidden beings stalked the land—they had seen them before in the human's spiritual cultures they had watched from afar, but this was the first time they came face to face with one and it didn't seem to care if they were fleshie or not.

They sensed the beings' strength and they knew that retreating was the best option. Even without the endless supply of energy, they had seen in the human's experiences what they were capable of... and what their only desire was...

"We are leaving—leaving," Shrapnel said, knowing what it wanted (he didn't need to be told twice!)

Kickback's antennas twitched. "Then let's do that... this is Megatron's problem... not ours."

They backed away, each step reassuring them that it wouldn't be following them. It was almost as if they were linked mentally to the being, they could sense it's every emotion; understand its faintest facial expression. It wasn't going to follow them because it didn't want them—it wanted something else, otherwise it wouldn't of been ordering them telepathically to leave.

The Insecticons disappeared into the vent. All of them promising to each other not to return while _it_ was haunting the Nemesis.

* * *

Ravage stalked down the hall, smelling the cubes as he passed. He could detect traces, but the scent was oddly displaced amongst the cubes. He turned on his infrared sensors and saw patches of cold spots dotted around the walls.

Ravage continued to walk down the path, even though the warning signs to turn back were right in front of his nose. He felt something watching him—_NO_. There _was_ someone watching him—he just couldn't pinpoint where.

Something heavy struck him in the back, knocking him to the ground. He growled and stood back up. Ravage looked around for what had hit him. He found nothing; as if it was all his imagination... he must be getting close.

He continued to stalk down the hall and as he got deeper more often would he get hit by an invisible force, but able to distinguish clearer what was hitting him: a leg in the side, a fist in the back, an open palm slapping him in the nose. All attacks by his attacker were unseen.

Ravage snarled as another foot hit him in his dented side, sending him into the energon cubes. Ravage's optics narrowed as he picked himself up from the ground.

_"You will not deter me!" _Ravage's mentally cried; as if thinking the being could hear his thoughts... he was right.

Ravage head tilted to the side when he heard the beastly grunt down the path. His optics caught sight of something and he zoomed in...

At the end of the path, a dark clawed hand, roughly the size of a Transformers, curled out from the corner and grasped the edge of the energon wall—still keeping itself hidden from sight.

Ravage felt Soundwave's presence in the Energon Room, causing him to look over his shoulder plates. When he turned back, the hand was gone—but he could still sense the being there.

Ravage decided to go greet Soundwave and retreated back down the path.

* * *

Soundwave sensed the presence the moment he arrived.

Like his creation, he had also known that there was an intruder in the base, but lack of evidence led him to believe it to be nothing but personal suspicions. As Megatron's optics scanned for the Insecticon menaces that were nowhere to be seen, Soundwave took the moment to analyze the heavy atmosphere that daunted the Energon Room, cloaking the room in darkness despite the lights functioning properly; as if a grey filter had been placed over his visor.

Ravage and Megatron distracted him from further analyzation.

Ravage respectfully went to Megatron first, knowing that his leader would like to see him—noticing that the Insecticons had fled. Ravage knew it wasn't in his nature to lie to the Decepticon leader but he knew he could not tell Megatron the reason the Insecticons had gotten away was because he became distracted and chose to chase a ghost instead.

_**((I tried my best to stop them but they overpowered me and left.))**_ Ravage communicated, lifting his nose; presenting himself as much as a soldier as his form would allow.

Megatron frowned, crossing his arms over his chest plates. "Did they take any cubes?"

Ravage optics quickly darted across the Energon Storage Room; he shook his head._**((No, sir— but there is one damaged.))**_

Megatron scowled, his red optics looking around the Energon Storage Room with disdain. After a moment had passed, Megatron turned to his Communications Officer. "Soundwave, send someone down to do a inventory check. Also check our security. I want to make sure that there are no more holes that those insufferable insects to find and crawl into."

"Yes, Megatron," was Soundwave's answer.

Megatron said nothing, taking one last glance at the Energon Room before storming back to the elevator. Soundwave waited until he heard the elevator doors shut before he addressed his creation.

_"Lying to Megatron, ill-advised," _Soundwave communicated telepathically to Ravage.

Ravage lowered his head. _"I know... but the truth would have been illogical; he would have not believed me."_

Soundwave remained silent. His optics staring around the room silently, scanning every detail.

Ravage lifted his head and looked at Soundwave. _"You feel __**it**__ don't you?"_

Soundwave paused before answering. _"Affirmative."_

Ravage was relieved, but not completely content; it still meant that there was a negative being somewhere in the Nemesis. _"Course of action?"_

Soundwave pondered, assessing the situation. He was not blind to the things happening in the base; the flickering lights, the put-on positive moods by the other Decepticons, and lastly the enormous amount of tension in the base that he could cut with a laser-scalpel. There was something in the base disturbing the equilibrium and it needed to be dealt with.

However Megatron couldn't rely on assumptions and feelings; he needed evidence that there was something—or _someone_—in the base and they were relevant to the activities occurring.

_"Collect proof. Show evidence to Megatron. Let Megatron decide next course of action," _Soundwave instructed. _"Suspicion of possible saboteur, keep to ourselves until claim is undeniable."_

Ravage shook his head. _"You are just going to allow this to continue? To allow __**it**__ to remain here?"_

_"We will act accordingly when it presents himself," _Soundwave said.

Ravage paused, letting Soundwave's plan sink into his processor. After a moment, he understood more and more what Soundwave was getting at. _"You want us to wait for the opportune moment, to wait for him to slip up and reveal himself unintentionally, and then show him to Megatron."_

_"Affirmative," _Soundwave acknowledged. _"Instances are now more frequent—high possibility of capturing intruder on security cameras; valid proof."_

Ravage remained silent and decided to agree with the plan, however at the same time a little unconvinced. To him, if the intruder was looking for anonymity, why all the pranks on the Decepticons?

Soundwave turned and left, walking out of the Energon Storage Room with Ravage at his heels; their communication link silent. Soundwave opened the doors for the elevator, master and creation entering the box.

Soundwave waited for the elevator to close before he addressed Ravage again. _"Keep Frenzy near you until intruder is discovered and banished."_

Ravage looked up to his master, hesitant and personally intolerant to the request; brother or not he hated spending time with any of the immature twins—he was a solitary cat.

_"Why?"_

_"Frenzy has been exhibiting strange mental patterns over the past cycles; possible connection to intruder," _Soundwave told him.

_"Why do you think that?"_ questioned Ravage, his optics narrowing in confusion; unable to see Frenzy and the intruder's connection.

_"Mental patterns and energy signature similar to the invasion Frenzy experienced one annual cycle ago," _Soundwave told him. _"Possibility of Frenzy being It's intended target. Therefore, you are to accompany Frenzy when he is alone."_

Ravage mentally scowled to himself, but nodded his head in compliance. _"I will, but what makes Frenzy so important to the intruder?"_

Soundwave didn't answer Ravage, but instead frowned slightly behind his face-mask; unwilling to admit to Ravage that he didn't know the answer at the moment.

* * *

**A/N: **It's my personal opinion that the Insecticons wouldn't just stay in Demon Swamp for millions of years; they had to of gotten out of Bali _sometime _and see the world and other human cultures. Speaking of the Insecticons, I think this is the first time I have ever written them in any of my stories. Poor bugs, they are neglected, like Reflector.

Reviews are welcomed and thanks for reading!


	6. Cursed

**A/N: **Just want to say thank you all for the kind reviews and support; it all goes greatly appreciated. :)

* * *

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 6**

**"Cursed"**

By Soundwave's orders and because it was there turn in the rotation, Astrotrain and Blitzwing were summoned down to the Energon Storage Room for an emergency inventory; fearing that the Insecticons had stolen cubes. It was a lackluster job for the Triple-Changers, who'd rather take their time out of the base to get space and not have to be trapped like a retro-rat. They could have used it.

Most Decepticons had kept their strange experiences in the base to themselves or only told them to a close friend; the Triple-Changers were examples of the latter.

The Hall a couple of floors above the Energon Room (which was jokingly named Miscellaneous Hall because they had to share the hall with extra rooms and Reflector) was now experiencing the most activity out of all parts of the base, but they weren't as violent as what they had overheard from Stunticon Hall and Combaticon Hall.

Every recharge cycle Reflector, Astrotrain and Blitzwing heard the same noises. Some nights it sounded like muffled talking below the floor, and some nights it would evolve into something vastly different; an animalistic grunt that passed by their quarter doors. Then other times, they would receive the same paranormal attention the other Decepticons were experiencing...

One of the Reflector triplets, Viewfinder, claimed to of seen a dark figure hovering over his berth. Spectro said he had also seen the same figure, but in the hallway, and Spyglass said that while he had not seen the figure had heard talking in their room—while his other triplets slept.

Astrotrain's worst experience to date was waking up in the middle of his recharge cycle, his vents unable to cool his circuitry that had begun to overheat tremendously. It was only when he forcefully rolled off his berth was he able to get his systems under his control. When he touched his berth he had to draw his hand back, his berth was cold as the winds of Neptune.

Blitzwing probably had the most physical night out of all the mechs in Miscellaneous Hall. He had also seen the dark figure that Reflector described, but it attacked him. Throwing whatever it could reach at him, only when he had opened his door and escaped did it stop, as if it had been ordering him to get out. He went back in to challenge the figure but he was gone.

While the others dismissed the events, Astrotrain couldn't help but connect the strange events to a phenomenon, rare but possible in the Cybertronian world...

"Do you believe in ghosts?" questioned Astrotrain.

"Ghosts? Slag no," Blitzwing replied. "Never seen one. Don't believe they exist."

Astrotrain paused working, there it was again...

That all too familiar feeling that there was someone watching him. His optics scanned the energon cubes for any other soul inhabiting the room. Though there was none, past experience told Astrotrain that there was someone else.

Astrotrain turned to Blitzwing, although his fellow Triple-Changer said he had never seen one, Astrotrain had. Once back on Cybertron when he was a sparkling.

Astrotrain wondered if he should tell the story to Blitzwing, fearing that there might be embarrassment to follow. He decided not to. After all, he knew that there would most certainly be teasing and it was a subject that Astrotrain didn't find funny—not after what he experienced when he was little.

Astrotrain remained quiet and continued to work as did Blitzwing; idle chit-chat far from what they wanted at the moment. Astrotrain felt the optics watching him again; he didn't like it. They felt... _too_ familiar.

"Are you done yet?" Astrotrain questioned.

"Yeah," Blitzwing muttered, finishing by punching in his signature code, "I'm done—let's go grab a cube."

Astrotrain marched behind Blitzwing, shutting the door and giving the Energon Room one last glance over. Astrotrain failed to notice Blitzwing's pace and how quick it had been, otherwise he would have been reassured that he wasn't the only one who felt something watching him.

They entered the elevator in silence.

That was when Astrotrain heard something behind him, turning to look over his shoulder plates. Blitzwing couldn't help but notice the somewhat disturbed look on his face; as if he had heard or seen something alarming.

He pushed it out of his processor, not really caring.

The doors to the elevator opened and Astrotrain nearly pushed Blitzwing out of the way, hastily walking out of the elevator. Blitzwing exited and took one last glance back at the elevator, wondering what had made Astrotrain want to hurry out of it so quickly.

* * *

Spending time with Frenzy was not as painful as Ravage had imagined it to be. It was a little awkward at first, but that quickly left. Instead of the twin taking Ravage's presence as an annoying precaution, Frenzy seemed to welcome the time the cyber-cat spent with him, wither it be to go get an energon cube, to watch the others converse in the Common Room or what other pointless activity the twin did to make the day pass. He was doing well, somewhat on edge, but nothing for Ravage to worry about...

That was all a week ago.

Frenzy's behavior changed the longer Ravage continued to keep an optic on him. He was mildly depressed, Ravage could see it: his paint was starting to fade in color (from lack of care and treatment) his visor seemed to glow a little dimmer and very often now he would get small panic attacks, claiming that there was static in the air though Ravage never heard it.

Ravage knew that Frenzy was constantly in fear; he could smell it on him.

Frenzy never told Ravage why he was afraid; he always kept it to himself and no matter how much Ravage asked Frenzy always turned him down, claiming that it was nothing.

A new behavior was also added lately, a behavior he never thought possible from him.

_"You are quiet lately,"_ Ravage began, staring at Frenzy who sat next to him on one of the tables of the Common Room. _"Why?"_

Frenzy said nothing, as if he was staring off into space; he didn't even give Ravage the common courtesy to even glance at him or tell him to 'slag off'.

_"Should I let Soundwave know you are keeping secrets?"_ Ravage questioned, deciding to go for the throat.

Frenzy sighed; Ravage had used the secret word.

"No... it's nothin'..."

_"Your demeanor says otherwise,"_ Ravage pointed out. "_You are never depressed."_

"Why do you give a slag?" Frenzy questioned, annoyed by his persistence. "Ya wouldn't believe me if I told ya Ravage so why don't ya just drop it?"

Ravage slanted his optics, rose to his paws and placed himself right in front of Frenzy. _"Try me Frenzy,"_ he said, nodding his head in a challenging way. _"What could possibly be on that little processor of yours that is so devastating that you must keep it hidden?"_

It was Frenzy's turn to narrow his optics. "Whadda you care? You only give a slag because Soundwave wants ta know."

_"He is concerned for your well-being,"_ Ravage said.

"Well there ain't nothing wrong with me," Frenzy rose, as offended as child that had been wrongly accused. Frenzy paced the table; wondering if he should tell Ravage the things that had been happening.

He desperately wanted to tell Soundwave what was happening; he knew that if there was one Decepticon aboard this Flying Dutchmen that would listen to him, it was him.

He couldn't.

No matter how much he wanted to tell, he could never bring himself to go to Soundwave, as if there was something holding him back; as if he was shackled by invisible chains. He didn't know why, but he felt as if he told Soundwave, things would only get worse. He could feel it.

Frenzy sighed.

There was no choice. Soundwave was his master—his creator—and there was no use stalling the inevitable; he was going to have to tell him about the ghost.

Frenzy went to the edge of the table and leapt off and made his way to the door.

Ravage followed, walking a few paces behind Frenzy as they headed for the door. Frenzy stopped and stared in horror at something under the Triple-Changer's legs. Ravage's olfactory sensors came online and he growled... he smelled the odor again.

Blitzwing and Astrotrain looked at each other and then back to Frenzy who was shaking. They said something derogatory to Frenzy that Ravage didn't catch; his focus on the smell and where it was originating from. Frenzy sprinted to the Common Room doors and rushed out. Ravage raced after him...

The doors shut and Ravage ended up running nose first into the doors. Ravage snarled, sending the codes to the doors panel to get them to open. He swiped at the doors, baffled and angry that they didn't respond. He growled in anger before turning around to see what it was that caused Frenzy to bolt.

He saw nothing.

Ravage smelled the odor again and turned to his right, finally finding the reason for Frenzy's hysterics...

Something dark passed through the wall—too quickly for Ravage to get a full scan of what it was.

Ravage realized something troubling... it was following Frenzy. Soundwave's suspicions had been right, there was a connection between the intruder and Frenzy and it whatever it needed from his cassette alone.

Ravage thought quickly, his optics darting around the Common Room for an escape. Ravage spotted a vent and he went to it, firing a missile and entered, heading towards the vent closest to Frenzy's location.

* * *

Frenzy raised a hand to his helm, his processor cloudy and his senses spinning. He rebooted his systems, trying to regain himself.

Instead of finding himself at Soundwave's quarters, willing to face the awkward conversation and finally tell him what had been on his processor, he found himself at the entrance of the Energon Storage Room.

Confused, he turned around.

Soon as he turned the corner and headed for the elevator doors, he began to grow very nauseated.

He stopped when he reached the elevator. Standing there silent and still, staring dead-pan at the controls, unable to command himself to send the codes to activate them to open.

Then, without a second thought, he turned around and headed to the Energon Storage Room, completely unsure of the reason why he wanted to head back down the corridor.

He was drawn to it, he didn't know why he just needed to be there, as if it was the only safe place in the base; not even Soundwave's quarters were safe.

Suddenly his face twisted into grief, his vocalizer started choking out uncontrolled bursts of strangled and exhaled air as if he was sobbing; it felt like he had been hit with a title wave of emotions. He was overcome with sadness, his processor bombarding him with thoughts that didn't belong to him.

Despair and hysteria; the only things he felt. He was trapped. Even when he was with others, the doctor began to show himself—going unnoticed by anyone else, as if it was all in his processor. He was seeing the doctor more and more and he could do nothing to prevent the optical illusions that struck at his sanity.

He was alone. Nobody was seeing what he was seeing. It was a terrifying show that was just for him.

He started to feel angry. What did it want from him? Why was he so special? Why did it only show itself to him? _Why?_

He knew the answer; why did he even bother asking questions?

To torture him.

It was not a simple ghost who just wanted someone to see him; to reassure itself that he could be seen and heard. No... his doctor was far from the personality of a benevolent spirit.

It wanted to scare him, make him feel alone and with nobody to turn to; perhaps to share the feelings the angry doctor bottled up (if the malicious ghost could feel at all). It didn't have to do much, just manifest and flash him that sickening grin. What frustrated Frenzy the most was that he let the ghost continue. He never once tried to stop him.

He couldn't, he felt hopeless; as if he didn't have the strength to fight—even as much as he hated the ghost for what it was doing to him.

_It was absurd!_

Why couldn't he bring himself to yell, scream, curse at him—order it to leave him alone? What the slag was wrong with him? He never had any second thoughts about doing it to mechs bigger than him or a fleshie. What made this thing any different?

But he never did any of those things. He should have but he never could. He would always get that feeling that something was holding him back, keeping him weak and powerless. He couldn't explain it. It was as if his personality was fading and changing him into a mech he didn't know. It scared him; it was happening too rapidly.

He stopped, the entrance of the Energon Storage Room in sight, beckoning him.

What was he doing?

As he stared at the room that awaited him at the end of the hall, he began to feel dreadfully uncomfortable. There was something wrong. He went with his instincts and backed away slowly, once again heading for the elevator.

A voice echoed in his head, making him stop dead in his tracks...

_Surrender_… it told him.

Surrender? Surrender to what?

His stubbornness returned. He wasn't going to surrender…

Static attacked his audio receptors and he groaned in pain, covering them with his hands. It was back, following him—refusing to leave him alone. He hated it—he slagging hated it!

He felt cold, clammy hands placed over his own, pressing against them as if to help him cover his audios more. They burned and Frenzy shivered involuntarily. The static attack increased even more and Frenzy dropped to his knee plates. When he did that, he felt the position of the hands change. Instead of reaching from behind, they reached from in front of him. Frenzy tried to shove off the doctor's hands but they stayed as if they were welded to his.

It chuckled deeply, mocking him by putting pressure on his hands.

_"Surrender,"_ he heard the doctor speak to him clear as crystal even though the static continued.

His anger flared and he was finally able to release his hatred. He liberated his hands from his head and swung at the doctor. He fell forward and landed hard on the ground in front of him.

The static was gone, the hands... but the presence and his fear remained. He rose slowly, looking about the empty hall for any signs of the doctor. After a long minute of silence he grew angry and his bravado returned.

He would _never_ surrender, he wasn't allowed to. He was a Decepticon, surrender was never an option, no matter how tempting...

A sharp pain in his abdominal plates brought him back to his knees, his arms wrapped around his sides as he fell forward, curling pathetically on the floor. It was excruciating, as if a hand was twisting and pulling at his fuel lines—trying to rip them out.

A painful twist in his torso brought a mangled cry from Frenzy's vocalizer. Frenzy then knew... it _did_ have him by the fuel lines.

With a jerk, he was placed on his back and the pain slowly disappeared. His body ached as he lay frozen on the floor, too stunned to move. Slowly and nervously he began to sit up.

With a startled cry he was thrown on his back by an unseen pressure, as if a foot had slammed on his chest and was holding him down. It all returned, the static, the pain he felt in his abdomen—only dispersed throughout his entire body.

He writhed in pain. It was unbearable, as if the energon in his fuel lines had been turned to acid. He twisted on the ground, unaware that he wasn't the only one under attack.

* * *

Ravage raced out of the vent of the Energon Storage Room and ran as quick as he could to the door and just like the Common Room they slammed right in front of him, preventing him from aiding Frenzy who he could hear on the other side of the door. He tried to activate the door... it didn't open.

Ravage snarled and stood on his hind legs, scratching at the door like a house-cat left outside on a stormy night.

* * *

Soundwave abandoned his quarters, a dark negativity entering the link and trying to block his connection to Frenzy. Soundwave knew what it was trying to do; he himself had done the same thing to many enemies to get them to relinquish important information. It was trying to invade the firewalls, trying to gain control of Frenzy's functions... trying to gain control of his mind.

It didn't register to Soundwave the possibility of the intruder being telepathic, but it made sense why he was unable to get a lock on him in the Energon Storage Room. It had most likely blocked or concealed it's mind to avoid detection and reveal its powers to Soundwave. It made the being more dangerous, and Frenzy more vulnerable. He may have been his cassette, but Frenzy was not telepathic and would not be able to resist the mental attacks of a being with telepathic capabilities.

Soundwave had to intervene.

He entered the elevator, heading down the Energon Storage Room.

* * *

Ravage's missile hit the energon cube he placed by the door, which did nothing but leave black scorch marks across the door. Ravage went over to grab another cube, but stopped when the door slid open... and the screams of his fellow cassette-con had ceased.

Ravage hurried out of the room and to Frenzy.

At the same time Soundwave exited the elevator and he briskly made his way over to his creation. Ravage and Soundwave met halfway to discover Frenzy laying offline on the floor on his chest, as if he had fainted there.

Soundwave stood over Frenzy as Ravage tried to nudge him awake.

Though the being appeared to of left and the link felt safe, Soundwave still had his doubts. Soundwave kneeled down, placing a massive hand over Frenzy head, seeing if he could detect traces of the telepathic intruder. So far he found none. Perhaps when Frenzy had shut down it had disrupted the flow of overpowering telekinetic waves of energy—blocking the being out. Soundwave wasn't completely positive that was the case but it was the most rational of explanations. Still, he searched deeper...

Frenzy suddenly jolted online, screaming and attacking wildly at what was holding him. Ravage had to jump back to avoid getting his head knocked in as Frenzy swung at everything around him. Frenzy, in a panic, sat up and ran for the elevator.

"Frenzy."

He stopped at the sound of his master's voice; comforting and safe. He lowered his head, realizing it was Soundwave he felt touching him. Slowly Frenzy turned around, shakily walking over to Ravage and Soundwave, a dark cloud of embarrassment lingering above his head.

"S-Sorry boss... I-I thought..."

Soundwave paused before answering. "Apology; unnecessary. Explanation; warranted."

Still ashamed of his moment of weakness, Frenzy kept his visor on the floor.

A moment passed without another word, just uncomfortable stares and thoughts. Frenzy knew that there was no more use in keeping secrets, not now. He knew that Soundwave felt him being attacked. He needed to know what was happening to him, he wanted him to know...

Frenzy couldn't face the doctor alone anymore.

* * *

With no solid evidence to support the claim of a violent ghost in the Nemesis, Frenzy had to continue on as if nothing was wrong. Ravage kept next to him as if he was his very own shadow, determined to not let him out of his sight after the slip up.

To Frenzy's relief, Soundwave had believed him and taken his accounts into consideration. As relieving as it was that he could now turn to Soundwave, he still found himself frowning, the entity bringing him back to that same damn question...

_"Specify why it chose you."_

Frenzy gave up. Maybe there was no reason.

Maybe he was just fragging cursed...

* * *

**A/N:** As you can see I took some artistic liberties here.

Since Octane saw a ghost (Starscream's) and because I need a character to be able to spread a theory for what's happening in the base. I chose Astrotrain for that reason (and partially because he's my favorite Con... don't ask.) And I made Reflector out to be three different mechs, that's the way I tended to see them ever since I saw Starscream shove one of them in the energon transport vehicle and he used a different voice. Wither it was a technical goof or not (which it probably was) my mind was made up.

Thanks for reading, review if you wish and I hope everyone is having a good Valentine's Day. :)


	7. Say Cheese!

**A/N: **I would like to say thank you for the reviews/ favs/ alerts. Also I must give you fair warning again why this story may/or may not have to be given an 'M' rating (just to be safe) in the future—there are small examples in this chapter.

Enjoy! :)

* * *

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 7**

**"Say Cheese!"**

Ravage and Soundwave weren't the only ones that noticed something wrong.

Despite being created by the same master, the cassettes might as well of been made by different creators; Soundwave was the only thing that they all had in common. Though it was none of Laserbeak's concern he couldn't help but notice the biggest change with Rumble and Frenzy. Over a period of several terrestial weeks, their relationship had escalated to Pit.

Before, you could never find the two separated, now Frenzy and Rumble seemed as incompatible as an Autobot and a Decepticon.

Ravage was also another noticeable change, not to mention a catalyst for the twins' bitterness towards each other. Never had Laserbeak seen the cyber-cat spend so much time with either of the twins outside of a mission. Nevertheless, out of all the defective cogs, it was Frenzy who was the most confusing and troubling of all three.

He wouldn't speak. He didn't exhibit the slightest interest in anything and poorly maintained himself. He was constantly nervous, although, according to Rumble, he wouldn't tell him what the matter was. Again it was none of Laserbeak's business so he ignored everything; it had no relevance to his Decepticon duties.

Rumble on the other hand took it personally and Laserbeak, who had the misfortune of being paired with him on the last reconnaissance mission, got an audio-full.

Through the rants he was subjected to Laserbeak could see that Rumble felt rejected. Frenzy wouldn't tell him what was bothering him and because they shared a strong, brotherly bond, Rumble took it into offense. So he began to ignore him. Then Ravage came into the equation, and really sent Rumble over the edge.

Jealously; that was what Laserbeak assumed it to be. _Not to mention incredibly childish..._

_"Frenz can tell Rav' what's botherin' he but he can't tell me?"_

Now Rumble would have nothing to do with Frenzy, and Rumble had flown to Laserbeak for companionship. Whatever what was bothering Frenzy, it didn't appear that the twins would find comfort in each other for awhile.

* * *

Despite his lack of acknowledgement that was looked at by his Decepticons as possible ignorance, Megatron was neither blind nor deaf to what was happening in the base. He _had_ noticed the swift personality change in his troops and had heard conversations—whispered and brought to a halt when he turned the corners of his halls.

At first he had paid no attention to any of it; his troops were not the most functional of mechs and absurdity among them was an everyday normality.

Now there was too much absurdity.

At first it was the flickering lights that had sent Hook into a frenzy to constantly maintain. Starscream, who constantly blabbed to him about the Nemesis' impeccable security being breached. His troop's lack of recharge was showing in their paint and mannerisms and lastly with the recent break-in by the Insecticons who had plenty of time to snatch cubes, didn't appear to; it was out of place.

There was something in the Nemesis that had completely altered the atmosphere in his base—that bothered him.

He entered the Control Room, Soundwave at his station working vigorously on the security cameras. Though he knew the blue mech was a dedicated and hard worker, he was surprised to see him working on a shift that was not his...

"I believe it is Reflector's turn in the rotation Soundwave, though I am not displeased by your commitment," Megatron began, approaching the chair. "Just curious of why you are still working since your shift last cycle."

Soundwave didn't answer him; he couldn't—not without betraying his true reasons. He knew that Megatron was not ready to believe them, no matter how trusting his leader was of him.

Megatron hadn't expected Soundwave to answer him; instead he placed his hands behind his back and stared at the monitor.

"I'm sure you have noticed malfunctions in the base lately Soundwave," Megatron began, "Though I see the lightning has been dealt with after all this time."

"Affirmative," Soundwave acknowledged.

"And the cubes?" Megatron questioned. "What is the inventory report?"

"Insecticons failed to steal cubes," answered Soundwave. "Security inspection and upgrades are underway."

"Good," spat Megatron. "I want no more break-ins by those insufferable roaches or any other intruders."

The last part of Megatron's sentence caught Soundwave's attention.

Megatron suspected something, though Soundwave could tell that he wasn't sure of what it was; Megatron was just firing random shots and hoping he would hit a target, getting Soundwave to tell him what was really going on. He knew that his leader could not put his faith in supernatural explanations unless he witnessed them or undeniable proof was supplied to him. Megatron was not a mech that could afford to believe in the paranormal.

Megatron frowned at Soundwave's silence, seeing that his Communications Officer appeared to be as ignorant to the 'changes' in the base. Soundwave would have told him if something was the matter and required attention.

Regardless, Megatron would continue to survey with a close optic. There was something wrong and he would find out what it was.

* * *

Frenzy walked to the Med Bay for his scheduled maintenance appointment, Ravage accompanying him tiredly. Usually Soundwave was the one to administer them to his creations, but he was disposed; currently searching through the security cameras for proof of the ghost's existence in the Nemesis.

The doors to the Med Bay slid open, revealing to the pair of Cassettes that other Decepticons had maintenance appointments as well.

"Hold out your arm and bend it 90 degrees," ordered Scrapper.

Astrotrain rolled his optics, doing as the Constructicon commanded. "It's slagging bends alright?"

"Any discomfort?"

"None. Now can I leave?"

"No, we still have a few more tests," Scrapper said.

Thundercracker, Dead End, Breakdown and Starscream were also being attended to by the other Constructicons. All as equally bored and as the Triple-Changer, but Starscream surpassed the shuttle-mech in the complain department.

"My systems are performing perfectly Constructicon! I see no reason for them to be checked up upon—especially by a mech that is less than _qualified_ to examine _MY_ systems!"

Bonecrusher snarled, unnoticed by the Seeker as he continued to work on him diligently; the look on his disgruntled face reading as if he was contemplating hitting Starscream over the helm with the tool in his hand.

"You're late," called Hook by an unoccupied medical berth. Frenzy and Ravage proceeded, passing by the others to the far side of the room. Frenzy activated his anti-gravity and hopped up the berth, Ravage doing the same. Frenzy approached and swung his legs over the side. Ravage sat on the far side of the berth, allowing Hook to work on him but also keeping him within close range.

Hook began his examination, plugging a medical cord into a slot in Frenzy's helm. The data transferred to his monitor, Cybertronian characters scrolling down and searching for any defects or viruses in his mainframe.

Frenzy wasted his time by looking at the others being examined. Thundercracker was ongoing the same process and the others were being tested for flexibility and motion. Frenzy's optics had just landed on Dead End until he found them ripped back to Thundercracker...

The Seeker was leaned forward like a ventriloquist's dummy, his arms hanging usually by his side and his optics offline. Scavenger approached behind the Seeker, his visor changed from crimson to jet-black. To Frenzy's horror he watched as Scavenger reached inside the back of the Seeker helm and plucked out the blue mech's processor with a sickening snap. The Constructicon brought it up to his face, and grinned in Frenzy's direction...

A frightened gasp escaped Frenzy's vocalizer, those all too familiar feelings returning back to him. He cried out in surprise when he was suddenly pushed off the berth, the medical cord detaching itself from Frenzy's helm. Frenzy hit the ground with a grunt.

Frenzy sat up, shaken and his optics stinging painfully. He rebooted his optics and dared to set them back on Thundercracker and Scavenger.

The Seeker was fine; his processor had not been ripped out, he was online and Scavenger's visor back to normal; staring at him with the same look everyone in the Med Bay possessed.

He didn't blame the mechs who gave him looks of confusion and shock, wondering if he was malfunctioning—he asked the same question himself.

_Did that really happen? Did Scavenger really rip out Thundercracker's processor? No, he was hallucinating—Thundercracker was fine. _

Oh Primus... it's getting worse; now he was seeing things...

"Aww," chided Starscream from his berth, who never missed an opportunity to criticize and tease another mech. "Did Soundwave's sparkling fall from the berth?"

Frenzy narrowed his optics under his visor, his fists clenching. "Cram it Screamer—I didn't fall!"

Starscream scoffed. "Then oh wise one what do you call it?"

Frenzy's mouth opened; preparing to defend himself... instead he wisely shut it. Not about to tell the mechs in the room that he was pushed. Frenzy activated his anti-gravity and jumped back on the berth were Hook awaited him. Frenzy grabbed the medical cord and plugged it back in the port in his helm.

Dead End and Breakdown glanced at each other and shrugged, dismissing it as the others did.

Frenzy sighed and placed his chin in his hand and rested his elbow on his leg, waiting for his examination to finish. His processor ached again; it had been ever since he arrived at the Med Bay. Frenzy, trying to be optimistic, assumed it was probably the mainframe scan that Hook was performing and ignoring that it was anything paranormal.

Still... it had seemed so real. The whole crazy hallucination and what frightened Frenzy the most was that when Scavenger had grinned at him he couldn't help but feel that it was his ghostly doctor smiling at him through the Constructicon.

Nausea swept through Frenzy and his optics dimmed slightly. He felt tired again...

Ravage's olfactory sensors sprang to life. He narrowed his optics and he growled as quietly as he could muster.

The intruder was somewhere in the Med Bay—very close to him.

Ravage scanned the room, trying to pinpoint where the smell was. His optics fixed on Frenzy. Casually, so not display to Frenzy that there was something wrong, he stood and walked on the berth.

He passed by Frenzy but stopped when he found the source of the smell. A red indicator locked in, making Ravage growl even louder.

It was coming from Frenzy.

Hook sighed loudly, adverting Ravage's attention for the moment. His monitor had gone blank in the middle of the exam. Ravage returned his optics back to Frenzy and found himself narrowing his optics at what he saw.

Ravage wasn't looking at Frenzy, it didn't feel like Frenzy. The expression on the red and black cassette's face didn't belong to him, but instead to someone dark and malicious. He looked over his shoulder at Ravage and flashed a large grin. Then he looked away from, as if giving the cat moment to let the look sink in and register that something was definitely wrong.

Frenzy stood and suddenly yanked the cord out of his helm. Throwing it on the berth so hard that delicate plug nearly broke.

"I don't wanna have a check-up!" Frenzy yelled before he jumped off the medical berth, attempting to storm out of the Med Bay, once again with all optics focused on him.

"Get back here we are not done," called an angry Hook, who didn't lay down for fussy patients, "Soundwave wants a—"

"I don't care what that stupid fraggin' telepath wants!" Frenzy snapped, turning to face the Constructicon, inconsolable hatred upon his faceplate.

Ravage growled loudly, sinking into a menacing stance on the recharge berth. That was _not_ Frenzy.

Frenzy's optics fixed on Ravage and lifted a threatening finger at him. "You quit following me! I'm sick of you! Next time ya follow me I'll knock ya fuckin' head off!"

If Frenzy's hostile and unpredictable uproar wasn't enough to raise optic ridges, the human expletive certainly did the job. They stared at him like a dangerous alien specimen; some alarmed and some repulsed.

Frenzy shivered slightly, a small gasp escaping his vocalizer. Ravage could see the twin start to resurface again...

Ravage jumped from the berth, approaching him cautiously. _"Frenzy—" _

"I said NO! You just make things worse for me! You stay away from me you stupid cat or I'll kill you!"

Frenzy flinched. His mouth opened and closed in horror like a fish out of water, as if realizing what he had said.

He couldn't explain it, it wasn't him. He didn't say those things. It was if someone else was doing the talking for him, making him look like an aft. Terror swept through him, it was as if he was losing control of everything, his processor, his vocalizer... his body.

"I... I..." he couldn't find anything to say.

"Leave," Hook ordered bluntly. "But perhaps I should prescribe a sedative before you go? You appear to need it—"

He interrupted him, an unknown anger surfacing in him. "Perhaps I shoul' drag ya down the hall before I go?"

Hook's jaw dropped, not only because he was insulted, but also because he was alarmed; the memory of being dragged out of the Energon Storage Room resurfaced—but how did Frenzy know about that? Hook never told anyone.

Hook narrowed his optics and took a menacing step forward, hiding his discomfort. "Repeat that to me. I implore you to."

Panic set in and Frenzy trembled, he didn't even know why he said those words, they just flew out. "No..."

Frenzy's glance fixed on Ravage, embarrassment and fear creeping into his spark. Ravage made his way to Frenzy and looked him over with stern optics.

_"Soundwave—NOW,"_ he communicated telepathically.

There is was again, that anger. He didn't know where it was coming from, there was no reason for him to be angry, yet he couldn't control it. It boiled up...

Frenzy's vision suddenly went dark, as if a veil had been placed over his visor...

He rebooted his optics, trying to wake himself up and return back to the land of the functioning.

Ravage lay in front of him... a small line of life-blood trickling from a small dent by Ravage's right optic as his fellow cassette lay on his side unconscious.

His gaze fixed around the room and the looks had only gotten worse, but one mech stood out more than the others...

He never recalled Astrotrain being so furious at him.

He backed away, giving each a glance, as if looking for a companion; someone to help him.

Unfortunately he left the Med Bay alone.

* * *

Soundwave's visor never left the monitor and the dozens of smaller screens that covered it as he continued searching for evidence.

The entity was clever. He had discovered that when he looked over the security cameras from the Energon Storage Room; there was a pattern...

When Dead End, Dirge, Thundercracker and Skywarp were searching for the circuit box, when Hook had entered the room later, and lastly when the Insecticons and Ravage had ceased fighting, the cameras either shut off or froze. Soundwave found it interesting, especially when they would return to normal status when the room was no longer occupied. He also discovered this in the other halls when the Decepticon's recharge cycles were disturbed.

He knew what it was doing. It was concealing itself, hiding its tracks. The being was creating malfunctions throughout the base from flickering lights to malfunctioning cameras and also from jumping from hall to hall in an untraceable pattern.

What confused Soundwave was why it was choosing to hide itself, yet be so exaggerated when it came to attacking out at others. Ravage had told him that he had been lifted up in the air and thrown at the Insecticons and Frenzy had already been telepathically attacked.

So why did it continue to hide itself when it clearly had made an impression?

Ravage's voice came over the link, halting Soundwave's work.

_"Frenzy is getting worse,"_ Ravage said. _"He just had a rather interesting episode in the Med Bay. I think the being was communicating through him; Frenzy reeked of that odious smell and his behavior was hostile."_

_"Did he say anything?" _asked Soundwave.

_"Yes,"_ Ravage came. _"First he told me to stop following him and that he would lash out at me if I continued—using a human expletive even." _

_"Continue," _Soundwave encouraged.

_"When I attempted to confront him and suggest that he see you, he hit me."_

By instinct, Soundwave began to search for Frenzy's presence in the link... and his finding troubled him. He could not feel Frenzy. Though his presence was there, it felt... _artificial_; like some sort of poor substitute to throw Soundwave off.

_"Where is Frenzy?" _questioned Soundwave.

_"He was gone when I woke." _

_"Find him," _Soundwave ordered._ "Chance of another attack: 64%."_

_"That's the thing Soundwave," _Ravage said. _"I was able to follow his signature until a few moments ago... I think the being was able to block me from him. I was hoping you would be able to lock in."_

It was able to block them from feeling one of their own—able to block Soundwave from really feeling and communicating with Frenzy. That only could only mean one thing...

It had already begun to take control of Frenzy; he was starting to become it's puppet.

He was starting to become possessed.

* * *

The dreaded recharge cycle came once again; only dreaded because that was the time when the unwelcomed noises that plagued Miscellaneous Hall were heard by the residents that lived in it.

Astrotrain had noticed an unusual pattern over the past couple of cycles. He noticed that the animalistic grunts would stop outside his door, increasingly grow loud and then eventually tire and cease.

Blitzwing would every other night become under attack by the inanimate objects in his quarters. He eventually got so flustered by the nightly disturbance that he eventually locked all the objects that had been thrown at him (since it was always the same ones) into his closet.

The Reflector Triplets continually reported seeing dark apparitions, but they could never transform quickly enough to get a picture; it always got away.

While the Triplets and Blitzwing continued to rack their processors about what was causing the phenomenon (both of them suspecting that it was an intruder) Astrotrain wasn't so sure. He couldn't help connect the events to his brief encounter with the paranormal when he and his sister had visited an abandoned house and BOTH had seen the mech that haunted it.

She had always doubted she had seen him, but Astrotrain never could doubt his optics or feelings. He saw him and he would never forget him.

He was tall—about as tall as a Seeker. Red optics, white face, dark and square helmet—half of which was missing. About half of his body was charred and damaged beyond repair, perhaps the victim of air raid or fire. The half that wasn't black and damaged showed that he was once a ground-roller with green and blue coloring.

The reason that Astrotrain could never forget the ghost was not because of the obvious reason that he was dead and shouldn't have been standing there. No, it was because the entire time the two siblings saw him, he only chose to stare at him. He never once acknowledged his sister's presence.

Later he had found out by overhearing a conversation vorns later in a tavern built over the ruined house that his name was 'Oversight' and the bartender and owner would see him from time to time.

The tavern is long gone now, but memories were not as put out.

Anger flared the memory of what had transpired in the Med Bay just a couple of breems ago...

_"Oversight say's 'Hi' Astrotrain..."_

How did Frenzy know that? How in the pit would Frenzy know one of his most well-guarded secrets? Not only that, it was the way that Frenzy had said it, right before he punched Ravage in the optic. He said it so... snarky and sinisterly. However it didn't compare to what Frenzy had said next before he left the Med Bay...

_"You shouldn't spoil things ya know—not without my permission— it's __**bad**__..."_

_What the slag was that supposed to mean?_ He didn't like that—not at all.

It was the same phrase he had heard in the elevator after he and Blitzwing had checked the energon inventory. Except the voice he heard was gruffer, baritone... and sinister.

Astrotrain had just rounded the corner to Miscellaneous Hall before he was stopped by a peculiar sight.

Reflector, who had changed into their alt mode, was placed in the middle of the hall. Blitzwing exited his quarters when he heard Astrotrain's footsteps outside in the hallway. He went to stand next to his fellow Triple-Changer, sighing.

"He's been there all cycle—won't move," Blitzwing explained. "Not till he gets a glamour shot of the mech who keeps botherin' us."

Astrotrain shrugged and went to his quarters, it didn't bother him; Reflector was doing a favor for them (the sooner the mech was found, the sooner he would be banished, and the sooner he could get a full recharge.)

Blitzwing also retreated back, but not without giving Reflector a cutting remark. "Ya want me ta get you a tripod camera-bots? That way you're not takin' a picture of the slaggers feet?"

"No need," replied Reflector in his unison echo. "Go get your beauty sleep Blitzwing—you need it."

Blitzwing narrowed his optics behind his visor and kicked the camera causing the clunky device to roll down the hall. Blitzwing entered his quarters with a smirk, retaliation his.

Reflector transformed, the triplet's exhibiting equal hostile looks of contempt aimed at the Triple-Changer's door, and repositioned themselves back to the spot from where they were kicked.

Ready for the night that lay ahead.

* * *

It left him in pain on the floor, his fuel lines still aching slightly as if had literally tried to rip out his fuel lines out again. His forehead rested on the ground of the Energon Storage Room. He wrapped his arms around his torso and lay there, unable to get himself to stand up and leave, unsure it would let him...

He heard and felt the presence of two small feet near his face, but he didn't dare to look up, he didn't need to; he knew who the feet belonged to.

"Leave me the frag alone..." he managed to choke out.

He felt a slight pang in his processer, he shuddered, feeling it enter the very depths of his mind...

Frenzy could feel him, everything that made up the malicious doctor. As if they were one.

He heard a deep laughter echo inside his mind, hurting his audio receptors and fogging his vision. The dark filter returned and covered his optics. He couldn't see anything, as if he was offline but still conscious of everything. Then he heard the doctor's voice answer him...

_"Never..."_

Then it left; the filter, the pain, the presence. Shaken he stood, picking himself up, his legs like rubber. A heavy atmosphere still hung around him even though he knew he was gone for the moment. The doctor's word still hung in his processor, that single terrifying word that promised Frenzy that this was just the beginning to what it would do to him.

He tried walking to the door, venting much needed cool air to calm his overheated circuitry. His whole form felt as if it was on fire. He felt sick and tired, angry and frightened.

Static returned and he covered his audio receptors, choking out a pained cry as he leaned his head back. A cloud of darkness once again engulfing him...

* * *

Astrotrain woke with narrowed optics. Although he doubted hearing it the first time, he knew that he had heard it _this_ time.

There was someone walking around his room. He felt optics on him, watching his every move.

He rose from his berth, his feet firmly on the floor. Slowly his scanners went to work, his optics brightening as his night-vision activated. There was nobody in the room, but that feeling was overwhelming. He knew that there was someone in the room with him.

He went to the other side of his quarters and activated his lights. They came on and Astrotrain backed into his quarters' door, and he felt like a sparkling again.

Oversight stood by his berth, staring at him with a penetrating and intimidating stare. There was no denying that what he was there.

Except this time Oversight gave him insight to his personality. He leaned his head forward, the corners of his mouth tugged into a grin. Astrotrain's hand touched the controls of his door and they slid open. Slowly he backed up into the hall, his optics never leaving the ghost in his room.

"Reflector..." he forcefully whispered through gritted dental plates."Get over here."

"Why?" called the trio in unison.

"Just get the frag over here!" he ordered.

Reflector transformed, all three mechs slightly annoyed that they were interrupted. "What's the matter?"

Astrotrain snapped his fingers and pointed to the ground, silently ordering him to come; his optics never leaving his room.

Blitzwing, who had yet to get to sleep, exited his quarters in hopes to tire himself by walking about the base. He raised his optic bridges in surprise when he saw Astrotrain already out of his quarters and the Reflector triplets approaching him.

Blitzwing and Reflector reached Astrotrain's side about the same time... and failed to see what had made Astrotrain stiffen.

Blitzwing nudged Astrotrain's shoulder, breaking his fellow Triple-Changer's trance. "What's the slag is wrong with you?"

A large thud caused them to turn towards their left... and down the hall Oversight passed, giving them a fleeting glance and disappearing into the wall. The residence stood in petrified awe at the sight of their new visitor, unsure what to make of him now that they knew who and what he was.

At the end of Miscellaneous Hall, Frenzy peeked behind the wall, staring at their backs...

* * *

Reflector had not been the only mech playing night guard.

In the Control Room Soundwave watched the activity in Miscellaneous Hall with great interest, his attention caught when Astrotrain had backed out of his quarters; a rare expression of fear upon the Triple-Changer's face. Then his sudden determination to have Reflector to come next to him to look at something inside Astrotrain's room and Blitzwing also joining them...

Then the next important thing…

He switched cameras in order to get a better view of what all of them looking at.

A faint dark spot in the camera moved from one side of the screen to the other, disappearing from view when it reached the wall.

Soundwave smiled slightly under his facemask... he finally had his proof. Proof that not only that there was a ghost haunting the Nemesis, but he also had witnesses the help validate his claim.

The Triple-Changers looked at each other, then to Reflector, speaking to him. Reflector transformed back into his alt mode, Astrotrain catching him before he and Blitzwing disappeared to search for the entity, obviously wanting to prove its existence in their hall.

Soundwave set to work, rewinding the recording and copying it to a disc to show to Megatron later. However he found his actions interrupted when it seemed that the activity in Miscellaneous Hall was not quite finished yet.

Soundwave found himself straitening himself in his chair when Frenzy came into view, his back to the camera, walking in a tired shuffle until he stopped. Soundwave watched with anticipation as Frenzy slowly turned to face the camera, glance at it, smile and then turn back around and continue to walk down the hall.

Soundwave frowned behind his facemask, his victory stolen away from him.

Realization hit Soundwave like a slap in the face...

The being was getting stronger and it wanted Soundwave to know.

* * *

**A/N: **Many paranormal experts believe that dark entities like to create confusion among their victims, ruin happy family bonds and do everything in their power to shatter all hope for help for the one they target the most. Which is what this chapter was about—the beginning to a very bumpy road now that the Decepticons have an 'idea' of what is really in their base...

Once again thanks for reading and review if you wish. :)


	8. Vows Are Spoken to Be Broken

**A/N:** I would once again like to thank everyone who has taken the time to review/read/fav/alerted. Ya'll are awesome! :) It's great to see others who also get kicks reading Decepticons running away from Casper's angry cousin. ^^

Here's another update for you all to enjoy. :)

* * *

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 8**

**"Vows Are Spoken, To Be Broken"**

"This is really dumb, can we please go home?"

The small navy blue and silver sparkling only rolled her yellow optics in annoyance and replied: "Come on—you promised!"

Her twin brother gazed at the demolished landscape and its buildings with both boredom and hesitance. The district was not only charred and abandoned, a reminder to the twins that they lived in a time of turmoil, but also restricted to visit by a power higher than their own.

Their creator.

"Dad's going to kill us if he finds out we snuck out—what happens if he gets home early?" Astrotrain questioned his sister. "You better have a good excuse for the both of us!"

His sister rolled her optics and turned him. "He won't be home until next cycle. That's what he said, _remember?_ We're not going to get caught—would I get you in trouble?"

Without missing a beat he replied: "Yeah. You would sis'. And I'm the one that always has to answer to Dad!"

His sister sighed. "Look if he catches us I'll take it," she promised him, "Why you so nervous anyway? You said you wouldn't get scared before."

"I'm not scared!" Astrotrain exclaimed in defense. "I just don't get why you have to do this?"

"Because I want to see if it works!" she answered. "Nightroller said it worked on him, so I told him he's lying, so he dared _me_ to do it and_ that's_ what I'm doing—" she placed her hands on her hips with sibling authority— "I'm going to sit on that berth and I'm going to see if that ghost pushes me off!"

"There's no such things as ghosts and that sounds really stupid," Astrotrain told her, shaking his head and folding his arms over his small purple chest. "Nightroller is full of slag and I wanna go back! I'm tired and you and I have tests in the morning!"

She gasped her optics wide and her jaw agape in stunned horror. "I'm going to tell Dad you said that word!"

The thought of punishment—especially their father giving it to him—made his optics wide; he panicked. "No! I didn't say anything!" He raised a little fist and shook it threatingly at her. "You'd better not tell him!"

"Then you're going to come with me or I WILL tell him you said one of his bad words," she countered a smug little smile on her face.

She continued walking, knowing that her brother had no choice but to give into her demands. She was a daddy's girl and Astrotrain had no doubt that their creator would believe her word over his; he didn't know if it was because she was loved more, or because she was a very good liar; he suspected the latter…

* * *

_"You and your sister sound adorable together Astrotrain," snickered Blitzwing from across the table, interrupting him._

_"Eat slag," Astrotrain shot back. _

"_I never knew you had a sister," Blitzwing said._

"_Well I do," Astrotrain tiredly replied. With a sigh, he returned back to the story before Blitzwing could interrupt him further…_

* * *

He ran into her on accident and took a step back to see why she had stopped.

"I think he said it was this one," she told him.

Half of the charred purple building was in ruins; the other half was surprisingly intact. Sheets of twisted metal lay scattered around the door and on the street in front of them. Darkness awaited them inside the abandoned home, indicated by the black, empty windows. Astrotrain didn't like the windows or the dark open door... it looked too much like a monstrous and twisted face.

He looked to his twin and also saw that he wasn't the only one apprehensive about the house. She nervously bit her lip and walked forward, pushing it aside and making her way to the building, pushing away twisted metal to get to the house. She stopped at the door and turned, uncomfortable that her brother wasn't following her.

"Aren't you coming too?"

Astrotrain shook his head and went to sit on a large box near a broken streetlight. "It's your dare. You go in HG; I'll wait out here for you."

She huffed and rolled her optics, showing bravado. "Fine."

And with that she stepped inside, searching for the ghost's berth.

Astrotrain fidgeted on the box as he constantly checked his internal clock. Their creator always had a bad habit of coming home early from his business trips to surprise his creations, and he didn't want to come home to find his Dad on the doorstep waiting for them, arms crossed over his chest and a look of both anger and disappointment on his face. They had already been caught sneaking out twice and he didn't want to know what he had in mind for them if it happened a third time.

He made the mistake of looking up at one of the windows.

A large mech passed by the far-left window on the second level of the building.

He heard the sound of something falling and his sister's yelp of pain. Scared that his sibling might be in trouble he jumped of the box and ran to the door, skipping over the metal in his path.

The first thing he noticed was that the house was messy. Furniture lay in his path when he entered, possibly moved by burglars plundering the former resident's most precious and salvageable belongings.

There was a set of rust covered stairs to his left and his sister sat at the bottom of them, rubbing her ankle joint with a look of discomfort on her face.

"You okay?" he asked.

She flinched at the sound of someone talking to her, but relaxed when she saw it was just her brother.

"F-Fine..."

"What happened?"

She looked at him and then turned away, her optics shifting rapidly. "Nothing... I-I fell..."

He didn't believe her, she seemed so... frightened.

He glanced at the top of the stairs and nearly offlined at what he saw...

* * *

_"He was at the top of the stairs. Just staring at me," Astrotrain looked at the picture in his hand. "I think he pushed her. He didn't look like he liked us being there."_

_"What happened next?" questioned Reflector._

* * *

Hydra Glide saw the look of horror on her brother's face and turned to see what he was staring at and found her face mirroring her brother's expression.

The ghost took a step down the stairs and Astrotrain acted.

He grabbed his sister's hand and dragged her out of the house, not willing to find out what he would do if they continued to linger there...

* * *

"Until now that was the last time I saw him," Astrotrain concluded, staring at his hall-mates that gathered around the table in the empty Common Room; the other Decepticons recharging and allowing them a secretive conversation. "I came back to the spot out of curiosity after you and I were formatted for Triple-Changing. The district was rebuilt and the house was reconstructed into a bar. The bartender told me about the ghost. His name is 'Oversight'."

Astrotrain held up the picture he held in his hand, the one Reflector had captured two Earth hours ago. "_This _mech in the picture. I'd recognize him anywhere."

Blitzwing leaned forward, his arms crossed over his chest. "You really think there's a ghost in here?" he asked with a disbelieving tone.

"It's not _impossible_," Reflector answered. "We've witnessed him on several occasions, after all."

Astrotrain looked at the picture again, sighing; unsure if he was willing to believe even himself. "What other explanation is there?"

"Autobot?" offered Blitzwing with a shrug. "Maybe it's all a well planned joke."

Astrotrain flipped the picture back to Blitzwing and narrowed his optics: "Does this look like an Autobot to you?"

"Maybe it's that hologram fragger, what's his name? Hound?"

"Autobots don't have sense of humors," Reflector contested.

Blitzwing looked at the picture, feeling the barriers of his logic start to crumble at the sight at the smoky apparition in the photograph, the outline of a tall mech in the photo undeniable.

"We would have tossed the Autobot out long ago," Reflector added. "_If_ it was an Autobot."

Blitzwing head leaned back in disbelieving defeat. "How are we going to convince the others that there is a ghost in the Nemesis? How are we going to convince Soundwave or Megatron? That little photo is not going to be enough you know."

Astrotrain knew that Blitzwing was being realistic even though he was starting to believe. Astrotrain knew that what he was saying was absolutely correct. How were they going to convince everyone? The Decepticons were not superstitious by nature, and convincing them to believe in a spiritual explanation was ludicrous.

_A ghost in the Nemesis? _They would become the laughing-stock of the entire base if they went to others with nothing more than their picture—that could still be disputed and debunked—and a poorly supported hypothesis.

They couldn't tell—not yet.

"Blitzwing is right," Reflector said. "We don't have enough. Perhaps we should wait until it can't be denied."

The side of Astrotrain's mouth lifted into a disappointed tug. He had hoped that capturing evidence would have resolved this issue immediately, but they were right; there was no way they could tell the others that there was a ghost; he had enough embarrassment telling them about his childhood already.

After taking a silent vow between them to not tell until they gathered more information, so they didn't appear insane when they eventually showed the evidence to everyone else, they stood and headed for the door.

Astrotrain tucked the reminder of his childhood memory into subspace, hiding it until he felt the need to share it again.

* * *

Frenzy woke up with one of the worst processor-aches he had to date. His entire form hurt, as if he had just run through a battle-field. He onlined his optics and felt the sensitive wires behind his optics burning as he activated them to find out where he was.

He crept over the side of the ledge he was on. He heard muffled talking and loud noises below. He looked over the edge and found himself in the Common Room, on top of the Energon Dispenser.

How he got there he couldn't remember, although his stiff joints told him that he had been there for quite awhile. Dead End, Dirge, Mixmaster, Scrapper, Thundercracker and Skywarp were the only ones occupying the Common Room; his presence unknown.

He was about to get down when he heard his name being discussed, he slinked back and decided to ease-drop.

"You should have seen the look on his face, he looked at me as if I was being killed," he heard Thundercracker's unmistakable low-toned voice speaking from their table, not far away from the Energon Dispenser.

"I heard things got weird after that."

"Who did you hear that from?" questioned Thundercracker.

"Who else?"

Thundercracker snorted. "Did Starscream already tell you this?"

"You know Screamer, if he is in the room he is sure to rant about it later," Skywarp replied, Frenzy could see him rolling his optics as he peeked his head over the side.

"He said that Frenzy went berserk, that he even attacked Ravage and that Soundwave should make a better effort to control his cassettes so his maintenance exam wouldn't be interrupted... _blah blah blah_—I pretty much stopped listening after that."

Thundercracker smiled lightly, his smile disappearing as he continued with his story.

"Yeah he did," Thundercracker said. "Frenzy was fine. Then out of nowhere he started yelling at Hook and Ravage. He struck Ravage when he tried to confront him and left. It's one of those things you have to see for yourself; it was very strange."

"Mmm..." was all the Skywarp said. They took a sip of their energon. Skywarp set his down and began another conversation. "Where is everyone?"

Thundercracker shook his head, peering around the somewhat empty room. "Not sure."

"Kind of weird don't ya think?" said Skywarp. "Usually Motormaster and his lackeys bother us at this time." Skywarp noticed that one Stunticon was accounted for.

"Hey Dead End! How come Motormaster is not here trying to rip our wings off?" he called across the room.

Dead End and Dirge looked up from their table. "They are choosing to over-recharge seeing that they were interrupted last night."

"How?" inquired Thundercracker.

"The Triple-Changers and Reflector came storming through our hall and snapped pictures, talking very loudly apparently," Dead End answered. "Motormaster did not like being awaken and the Triple-Changers did not like being badgered by him, so you can imagine one thing led to another."

"How come you're not recharging?" asked Skywarp.

"Because I recharge with my audios and optics completely shut-off now," Dead End explained. "I do not like hearing voices muffled through the wall; it is rather annoying."

"Are the lights still flickering in your hall?" asked Thundercracker, noticing that he only answered for his audios.

"No. Not exactly," was all that Dead End said before picking up his empty cube and placing it in the nearest Waste Can. He and Dirge left, deciding it was time to get to their daily duties. Mixmaster and Scrapper also left soon afterwards and finally Thundercracker and Skywarp followed, leaving the Common Room empty.

Frenzy jumped down and began his march out of the Common Room, bothered to know that not only that he had struck Ravage and could not remember doing it, but his incident in the Med Lab was becoming the new interesting topic.

_"Great," _Frenzy bitterly thought. _"Now everyone's gonna know that I'm crazy."_

* * *

_"I see that you no longer are accompanying Frenzy,"_ Laserbeak communicated from his perch, addressing the cyber cat that lay on Soundwave's berth. _"I figured that the twin would wear you down at some point; you both have very conflicting personalities."_

Ravage raised his sore head, the dent still present on his face, and regarded his fellow cassette. "_And Rumble? I would think he would do the same."_

_"Oh he has," _Laserbeak communicated, lowering his head as if he was sighing tiredly. _"All he talks about is Frenzy and their little spat. I'm surprised that you are involved in it."_

_"Not by choice,"_ Ravage said. Not one for subtleties, Ravage decided it was best to tell Laserbeak what was happening; besides he would find out about it sooner or later.

_"Haven't you noticed the presence of an intruder?"_

Laserbeak drew his head back. _"An intruder? No."_

_"How about the irregularities in the base? Not only with Frenzy and Rumble, but with the other 'Cons as well?"_

_"I haven't been in the base enough besides to recharge to see any irregularities," _Laserbeak told him, referring to his ongoing reconnaissance project in the Arctic Circle. _"What are they?"_

_"Tempers from lack of recharging?" _began Ravage.

_"A normal commodity," _countered Laserbeak.

_"Flickering lights and other maintenance problems?"_

_"Not out of the ordinary—and they can be easily fixed," _Laserbeak shot down.

_"The Decepticons lack of care for themselves?"_

_"Laziness; not uncommon."_

_"An odious smell and an unexplained presence in Frenzy's link?"_

Laserbeak had to stop and think for that one. True he never cared about exploring the twins side of their link and therefore couldn't feel the difference, however he had picked up on the 'odious smell' that Ravage was referring to; he thought it was nothing but an organic animal that had found a place to die in the Nemesis and assumed it would be dealt with; and that was what he decided to tell to Ravage.

_"And Frenzy?"_ Ravage asked, his other question not answered by Laserbeak's logical answer.

_"None of my business,"_ Laserbeak replied. _"Whatever is going on it is between you three."_

_"Four,"_ Ravage corrected. _"Soundwave is involved as well."_

Now it was Laserbeak's concern. _"How is Soundwave involved in this domestic dispute? Soundwave has no time for such things."_

_"Exactly. It is not just a domestic dispute,"_ Ravage said, lowering his head in his direction.

_"Then what is the situation exactly?"_

Now that he had managed to capture the bird's interest, Ravage began to tell him every detail and why it _should_ be the passive bird's business.

* * *

Rumble was making his way towards Storage Room 16-A when he caught an optic-soar of a sight; a sight that instantly made him scowl.

He tried to pass by Frenzy without entering into a conversation with him but unfortunately his brother wouldn't allow it. He stepped in his path when Rumble attempted to pass him, and again when Rumble tried to step to the side. Frenzy grabbed him by the shoulder and held him still. Rumble response to Frenzy's touch was as stiff as marble statue, and just as cold.

"Rumble…" Frenzy began, his head down. "I really need ta tell ya somethin'."

"Tell it ta Ravage Frenzy," Rumble harshly spat, shaking Frenzy's hand from his shoulder.

A look of despair crossed his twin's face at the remark and in desperation he reached out again, grabbing him by the arm. "There's a ghost in the base followin' me!" there was no use stalling; he let Rumble hear it straight.

Rumble paused, unsure he had heard what Frenzy had blurted out.

"That's why I've been actin' funny Rumble!" Frenzy explained to him. Frenzy hung his head in shame. "That's why Ravage has been hangin' out with me, because Soundwave knows it's here too and that it's botherin' me."

Although Frenzy's voice shook with authentic fear, Rumble's stubborn and childish nature wouldn't allow him to forgive and forget the weeks of bitter tension between them.

"Soundwave doesn't believe in ghosts," Rumble returned, his vocals defensive. "Quit makin' up lies Frenz."

"Rumble I'm serious!" Frenzy interrupted, sensing that his twin still refused to believe him. "There's somethin' bad happening to me!"

"Like what? You and Ravage had a fight and he won't hang out with ya anymore?"

Rumble waited for Frenzy's rebuttal, but he never received a response. Instead Frenzy flinched and began to shiver, as if someone had doused him liquid-nitrogen. Rumble narrowed his optics, both angry and confused to what he was doing. "What the slag is wrong with ya now?"

Rumble felt slightly uncomfortable when he witnessed Frenzy's expression changing in less than an astro-second. Before he seemed scared and overwrought, now he only stared at him with inconsolable rage. Rumble narrowed his brows in reaction; he didn't like the look his brother was giving him at all.

"What the frag crawled up your aft all of a sudden?"

Frenzy said nothing and continued to stare at him, his face twisting into a more violent and angry expression before finally turning his back to him and walking away—but Rumble was far from finished.

"Hey! I'm talkin' ta ya Frenzy!" he angrily shouted, marching after him and grabbing him by the shoulder.

Rumble's face fell when Frenzy turned to acknowledge him; that was when Rumble saw that there was something definitely wrong.

A sound emanated from Frenzy's vocalizer although his mouth never opened. Being that Ravage was his sibling, he knew what the sound was—Ravage made it when he was extremely aggravated and didn't want to be disturbed.

It was a deep and aggressive closed-mouth _meow_ that increased to sound more like a growl. It complemented with the severe look of hostility Frenzy was giving him, it was enough for Rumble's expression to change from anger to concern.

His arm felt numb as it still remained attached to Frenzy's shoulder. He wanted to move it but was afraid that any sudden movements might trigger something. Instead, for the first time in terrestrial weeks, he reached out to Frenzy. "Are you okay Frenz'?"

Rumble pulled his arm to his chest, holding it when Frenzy painfully swatted Rumble's hand of his shoulder plates with strength that Frenzy only reserved for enemies.

Frenzy took a menacing step towards Rumble. "Oh _now_ ya care? Ya didn't care before but now ya do—don't you! Well guess what!'"—Frenzy shoved Rumble into the wall with both hands and trapped him when he grasped him by the throat with both hands— "I don't care that_ you CARE_! I HATE you and I don't want ya around me!"

Rumble's processor came up blank, unsure how to react. Rumble tried pushing him away but his efforts had little effect. It was funny… he never had problems pushing Frenzy away before.

He tossed Rumble aside, letting his brother hit the floor hard. Rumble, stunned, propped himself on his elbows and watched as Frenzy walked down the hall and out of sight, leaving Rumble with a lot to think about.

* * *

Frenzy was becoming more and more of a stranger.

Soundwave could no longer tell which Frenzy he was feeling anymore within the link. His personality had taken a turn for the worse, but being telepathic, Soundwave had expected this change.

Anger had replaced Frenzy's depression and fear, turning him into a much bigger target. Invoking fear was always the first phase of mind possession, it made the victim feel hopeless and thus weakening his motivation to cast out the alien feelings and thoughts.

The second phase was getting the victim to finally submit after exhaustion; after he had made his last efforts to fight.

The third was control; to be able to command the victim at will.

The fourth and final—after the victim had expired his worth… termination.

Soundwave predicted Frenzy still between the first and second phase—and he intended to keep it that way until he found a solution to rid him of the entity.

He considered driving the spirit out with a series of sound therapies; emitting a series of static waves to annoy the being out. His other and more irrational option was to communicate to the entity and demand it to leave, but he had nothing besides the telepathic therapy to threaten the ghost with; he still did not know very much about the entity other than it was a possible telepath. Understanding ghosts had never been a part of his interests until now.

Rumble's presence was felt before the door to the Control Room was opened. Soundwave turned, sensing something bothering Rumble; he could feel he was uncomfortable through the link.

"Umm boss, I need ta talk to ya..." Rumble mumbled, his left hand sliding up and down his right arm; he was nervous. "It's about, umm, Frenzy."

Soundwave turned his chair towards Rumble's direction, reassuring the small 'Con that his master was all audios to what he needed to talk about.

* * *

Frenzy returned to Soundwave's quarters feeling as if he was on the borderline of a nervous breakdown.

It was as if he had watched the scene with his brother unfold before his very optics as if he was a helpless bystander who was powerless to prevent it.

Just like in the Med Bay, it wasn't him. It was a personality that didn't belong to him. So why did he attack Rumble?

_"Why?"_ a voice inside his head echoed. _"Because it wants ta destroy your life that's why." _

Frenzy hung his head, his visor to the floor. Thinking of what he could have possibly done to have the ghost come after him. He'd give his full energon ration just to at least know; it would be better than wandering in the dark with someone poking a sharp stick at him.

The doors to Soundwave's doors slid open, Ravage and Laserbeak in the room to great him. He sighed heavily as the doors closed behind him; he knew what he needed to do first.

"Ravage," he croaked. "Sorry about, the uh... hittin' ya in the optic... I didn't mean—"

_"I know Frenzy; there is no need for an apology," _Ravage communicated, his optics stern from the berth. Laserbeak's head turned to Ravage briefly before regarding Frenzy again. Frenzy noticed and couldn't help but wonder if Ravage had told him what had been happening.

Frenzy pushed it aside and walked to the berth, jumping on it and sitting with his back against the wall, a deadpan expression on his face. It wasn't long before Ravage spoke to him.

_"Any incidents?"'_

Very softly, Frenzy nodded. Ravage mentally sighed, choosing not to ask further when he saw his distressed expression.

_"Where did you go after the Med Bay?"_

He shook his head; he didn't know.

Not in the mood to talk, Frenzy slid his body down against the wall and lay on his side, his back to his brothers.

Ravage locked optics with Laserbeak, a clear _'see what I mean?_' look written on his face.

Frenzy could sense that the two were looking at each other, probably secretly discussing him through a private comm channel that he couldn't listen into. He couldn't have cared less. Quite frankly, he didn't care about anything, he felt like a non-citizen in the place he used to call 'home'; his relationship with everyone in the Nemesis, and the incident with Rumble only made it clear to him that he was never going to regain the ground lost between him and his twin after what had just done.

A hole in his spark was created when this all began and he had hoped that Rumble would help him fill that hole back up, so he had at least some sort of support, hope or reason to continue fighting. His ghost had destroyed that and took Rumble's place, filling the hole with lime.

* * *

Rumble felt human; he felt pathetic and he hated his life.

He knew he would have to apologize to Frenzy, but he also knew he would also have to hear one as well.

He couldn't believe what had been happening to his twin and worse of all that he didn't see it sooner and while his twin was suffering beyond Rumble's comprehension, he had tossed salt on the wound and distanced himself away from him when Frenzy needed him the most.

However Frenzy never told him what was happening to him. He never once gave Rumble any clues that something was after him. He wondered if it was because of the vow they made not to talk about ghosts or the island they visited. It was the only thing he could see besides that Frenzy didn't think that he would believe him. He hoped it was because of the vow, he felt low enough already.

Soundwave walked beside him to High Command Hall, informed that Frenzy was there recharging after Blast Off had taken his shift in the Control Room, the disc of the ghost's presence in Miscellaneous Hall in subspace.

Soundwave could feel guilt in the link—Rumble's guilt. At least he was informed of the situation now, as well as Laserbeak according to Ravage, which was beneficiary. As long as Frenzy was accompanied he would not feel abandonment—an exploitable weakness for the entity to use against Frenzy.

As for their rocky period, Soundwave would leave that to the twins to work out. Interference on his part would hinder the two co-creations in reestablishing their bond.

Instead he would interview Frenzy of what happened in the last cycle and then leave the two to make amends...

The sound of things falling and a scream was heard despite a wall to muffle it.

Starscream opened the door to his quarters and stumbled backwards, nearly falling into Soundwave. Starscream's back hit the wall, an angry but stunned look on his face.

Starscream raised his arm cannons, firing into his own quarters. He ceased the whirring of his fans loud as they worked to cool his overheated circuitry. Starscream noticed Soundwave and Rumble's presence with an immediate scowl.

"It appears your impeccable security has been breached once again Soundwave," Starscream acidly remarked. "Perhaps you can explain to me why I found an Autobot intruder in _MY_ quarters!"

Soundwave moved to inspect the inside of Starscream's once lavish quarters, destroyed now by the blast from his arm cannons (and perhaps a mild struggle).

There was nobody there, but Soundwave knew that before he even looked into the Air Commander's room; he still had to maintain appearances.

Starscream pushed passed Soundwave, inspecting his room with astonishment. _The mech was right here!_

Starscream panned angrily to the Communication's Officer, feeling the slagger's optics burning at the back of his helm with scrutiny.

"There was an Autobot intruder in here! I FOUGHT him—JUST NOW!"

"I see no one. Quarter door only escape route, therefore, no reason why he should not be present in the room," Soundwave said.

Starscream's expression changed to one of malcontent, he took a step forward toward Soundwave preparing to say something when Rumble suddenly called for their attention, pointing at something down the hall.

A figure passed, to quick to make out if it was an Autobot or a Decepticon, but that didn't stop the Air Commander from labeling who the mech was.

"INTRUDER! Get back here Autobot SCUM!"

And with that screechy call he charged after him, leaving Soundwave behind with his cassette. Soundwave turned around, sensing the entity's presence behind him.

Rumble felt the energon in his lines run cold at the sight of the ghostly mech staring at them with humored animosity.

He was tall—about as tall as a Seeker though his green and blue structure indicated he was a ground-roller. He had blue optics and a pale face, shadowed underneath his black and square helm.

If Rumble had seen this mech among Prime's forces, he certainly didn't remember. Besides, he had a hunch that it wasn't a new Autobot recruit; it just didn't feel like it.

He didn't regard Rumble, his focus mainly on Soundwave, who did nothing but stare back in return. It seemed endless, as if time had stopped so these two mechs could have an uninterrupted meeting.

The mech sent Soundwave a malicious smirk and tilted his head in an amused manner. Rumble saw Soundwave's fists clench in reaction, it was almost as if the two were having a telepathic conversation.

The mech walked towards them, passing by them. Soundwave held his composure even when the mech gave him an 'accidental' shove in the shoulder plates.

Rumble glanced behind him and finally did his presence get acknowledged. The mech looked over his shoulder plates as he walked in the direction Starscream just went and sent Rumble a smirk.

_"Boo..."_

Rumble shivered at the sound of the mech's voice in his head. He _was_ fraggin' telepathic!

The mech turned sharply and walked into the wall, disappearing from sight. Leaving the two alone and silent in the hall.

Ten astro-seconds, twenty, thirty, slag maybe an entire breem—he wasn't counting how long they stood in that hall, awestruck at what had happened; both were lost in their thoughts; Rumble thinking about the ghost's single, terrifying word and no doubt Soundwave thinking about his conversation as well.

Rumble was curious about what they had talked about, but at the same time he wasn't sure if it was a good idea to know.

Their comm links buzzed and the screechy Air Commander's voice made their audio receptors twinge with discomfort.

**((Decepticons this is your Second-In-Command. There is an Autobot intruder onboard the Nemesis. FIND HIM and bring him to me—**_**ON**__**LINE**_**!))**

Soundwave knew it was only a matter of time before Starscream's efforts to find the 'intruder' ran into a dead end, therefore enlisting the others to help him find them. Perhaps it was best—even though creating chaos was what the entity wanted by visiting Starscream's quarters, but at least now he could possibly get all the Decepticons on the same level.

He relayed the message to Megatron, informing him of the situation (Starscream hadn't contacted Megatron; perhaps seeing it as a possible way to aggravate and taunt the silver Commander when _he, Starscream,_ caught the Autobot intruder).

Soundwave turned to Rumble.

"Attend to Frenzy," he instructed before walking to join the others.

Rumble trudged to the door, thousands of pounds of pressure on his shoulder plates and an iron anchor in his fuel tanks.

The door opened before he could even activate it, Ravage and Laserbeak flew out, no doubt drawn out by Starscream's message. Laserbeak didn't even seem to notice Rumble and flew off to search.

Ravage paused, looking at Rumble. He studied him for a moment before communicating to him: _"He's recharging. Wait to make your apology."_

With those parting words, Ravage joined Laserbeak and disappeared down the hall while Rumble entered Soundwave's quarters; inwardly dreading the future.

* * *

"_Let us embrace, and from this very moment vow an eternal misery together." __**Thomas Otway.**_

* * *

**A/N: **I'm a fangirl and this is a work of fanfiction, therefore I couldn't resist writing Astrotrain and his sister's encounter with Oversight, who is not who he appears to be—it will be revealed in later chapters what he really is.

This chapter was inspired by the quote above and you know what they say, vows are made to be broken.

Sorry to leave it at a semi-cliffhanger. Next chapter I think should be fun. I wonder if the Decepticons like to play laser-tag with the dead... (smirk)

Thanks for stopping by and review if you wish.


	9. Discombobulate

**A/N:** Another thank you to all you readers out there. You guys are superbly wonderful. ^^

This chapter is a homage to haunted houses and those delightful scary attractions that we subject ourselves to every October. ;D

So with nothing further to add…

Enjoy!

* * *

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 9**

**"Discombobulate"**

* * *

"Fasten your seatbelts; it's going to be a bumpy night…" Bette Davis (_All About Eve_)

* * *

The sound of eager and rapid pedes against the purple floors of the Nemesis echoed off the walls like the rat-tat-tat of a battle drum.

So... it had been an Autobot intruder all along; causing them grief and agitation. The thought of that logical explanation was more frustrating than being offered an illogical one; it had been their enemy and that angered them to the core.

There was one universal feeling that they shared between each other as they abandoned their suddenly unimportant duties…

They all wanted to slag the Autobot, revive him, then slag him again.

At least the ones that were under the impression that it was a simple Autobot spy.

* * *

Megatron stormed down the hall, his dark hands ready to crush the throat of the unfortunate Autobot that would regret trespassing in his base—but at least one thing was clear now. In the back of his processor he had always suspected the disturbances in the base to be the result of Autobot sabotaging, but he had brushed the theory aside due to lack of evidence.

Now it appeared he did have evidence and the Decepticon leader was pass the simple levels of being angry. Mostly because of the fact of that the Autobot was able to get past his security and seemingly remain undetected in the base for so long. It meant only one thing to the Decepticon Commander...

His enemies were getting smarter and that did not sit well with him at all.

Soundwave met him at the end of Triple Hall (Miscellaneous Hall) apparently waiting for his Commander as if to speak with him. Megatron approached a deadly scowl still upon his face.

"Autobot found in Starscream's quarters—disappeared when I inspected," Soundwave reported. "All available Decepticons are currently searching."

"Good. Tell them I want the Autobot online for interrogation... and his deactivation," Megatron answered, the Communications Officer walking beside him to the elevator.

"As you command Megatron," was Soundwave's answer before the elevator's doors closed.

Megatron continued to speak to Soundwave, ranting his outrage but Soundwave only pretended to listen; too wrapped up in his own thoughts.

Soundwave decided to hold back the information for now about what the Autobot really was. He knew that whatever chaos the entity was looking to cause tonight, Megatron would surely be a part of it. As the humans said... _seeing is believing_, which was probably the best evidence of all to show Megatron and no doubt the intruder would be willing to show the Decepticon Commander.

As much as Soundwave wanted to inform Megatron of the situation, and knowing an explanation for everything would eventually have to come from his vocalizer, Soundwave knew that he still could not tell Megatron. It was not in Megatron's programming to believe in things without witnessing it first-hand; he knew of all mechs that Megatron was well-educated in the study of how gullible groups were formed (it only took one other to agree until the others started as well).

Megatron would know now, Soundwave would tell him and the others would back up his claim. That's all the mattered now…

The elevator stopped in the middle of its travel, the lights soon followed, shrouding the two Decepticons in darkness.

Soundwave frowned behind his facemask.

It was beginning without them.

* * *

Dead End and Dirge who were participating, not as motivationally as the rest but nonetheless participating, drew their weapons out and stepped to the side when Ramjet and Thrust came bursting out of their rooms in Seeker Hall, the look on their faceplates reading that they were eager to feel Autobot steel buckle like tin foil under their fists (or their helms, whatever pleased them).

And that was when the lights went out.

Ramjet and Thrust stopped, as did the somber duo; disbelief and annoyance on their faceplates.

"You have got to be joking!" cholered Thrust in the dark.

Dead End felt the presence he had been feeling for cycles almost immediately at his back, mere inches away from him and staring at him with intense animosity. "I don't think joking is on this Autobot's agenda."

Dead End turned to confront him, swiping a hand through the air to knock the being off balance. His hand hit nothing but air—Dead End had somewhat expected that; he had been doing it for as long as it had been bothering him.

"How was that Autobum able to knock out the power?" Ramjet demanded, anger thick in his vocals.

Something heavy fell, making the floor shake from its _graceful_ landing. The group turned to see Thrust sitting uncomfortably on his aft, furious fists ready to strike.

"Someone just fraggin' pushed me!" Thrust exclaimed.

"Who?" Dirge asked.

"Someone pushed me in my chassis—I felt him do it but I didn't see anyone!" Thrust told them, standing.

Thrust stopped, as did the others, to listen as footsteps were heard walking away from the group and disappear around the corner. They turned to look at the end of the corridor, baffled expressions on their faces when they heard invisible footsteps now approach them from behind.

The Decepticon's heads spun around the hallway, trying to locate the sound of multiple footsteps coming from different directions: behind them, in front of them, to their left, to their right, even above their helms.

Then there was nothing but silence in the hall.

The Decepticons glanced at each other, looking to see if anyone could explain. Dirge was the only one that offered something.

"Maybe it's Mirage?"

The looks on his fellow Coneheads and the Stunticon's face showed that his theory was immediately and silently shot down; it didn't feel like an Autobot. They heavy atmosphere in the air caused them to believe that it was something... malignant. Dead End wished he could agree with the Conehead, but an irrational voice in the back of his processor told him that it was not an Autobot.

He just wished he could put his finger on what it was.

* * *

Skywarp and Thundercracker entered the Control Room; their arm cannons whirring in anticipation and longing to cause damage to Autobot hide. Flickers of light flew from the giant computer's keyboard; a panel ripped open and the ends of several wires sparking from being forcefully ripped out.

The Seekers glanced at each other briefly and proceeded to the panel for closer inspection. Thundercracker bent down to one knee plate and grabbed the chunk of wires.

"Looks like the Autobot was here," Thundercracker said, letting the wires drop. "Which means he's probably still around this area."

"Yeah," agreed Skywarp, "but why would he want to knock the power out?"

"Don't know," answered Thundercracker honestly, straitening himself up and heading toward the door with Skywarp, "who knows why Autobots do anything."

Thundercracker activated his communication systems: **((Come in Hook.))**

**((Hook here, what is it Thundercracker?))**

**((The Autobot has been up to the Control Room- he knocked out the power. You best come and fix it.))**

**((Understood and acknowledged—Hook out.))**

The doors of the Control Room opened for the Seekers, allowing them to enter the dark hall. They froze at the unearthly silence that lingered in the air, as well as the unnatural feeling of being watched despite there being nobody but them occupying the hall. They glanced uneasily at each other and saw that they both were feeling a presence (and that it wasn't just them).

They turned to their left, hearing what sounded like footsteps down the corridor approach them and stop, as if the owner was taking it's time to stare at the pair; the feeling was overwhelming.

"He's here," said Thundercracker, shrugging off the creepy sensation of being stared at in the dark, despite their readings telling them that there was nobody in the hall but Skywarp and himself.

"Good, I thought it was just me who thought so," commented Skywarp.

In unison the Seekers raised their arms and fired down the hall at the Autobot. A figure emerged every time the hall would light up from their arm cannons firing, and each time they missed him.

Thundercracker and Skywarp fired more rapidly, charged when they saw the 'Autobot' standing in the hall. They began to grow both frustrated and alarmed when they discovered that no matter how many times they hit the Autobot, it seemingly did no damage to him—he didn't even flinch!

The Decepticons stopped firing when they noticed that the Autobot had vanished.

They both took half a forward and turned when they heard footsteps approaching from _behind _them. Skywarp fired in response and Thundercracker brought his hand down on Skywarp's arm, ceasing Skywarp for the moment.

"What the frag TC?" demanded Skywarp, annoyed that Thundercracker had stopped him.

Thundercracker shook his head. "Something's not right here," said Thundercracker suspiciously, "how did he get behind us?"

"Who cares—just shoot him!"

"Why doesn't he show up on our scans?" Thundercracker asked. "There's something not right about this."

"He's an Autobot, we're Cons- what else do you have to know TC?"

"How—"

Thundercracker took a step backwards his hand against his cockpit as his equilibrium was suddenly thrown off; causing him to stumble into the wall for balance. He shook involuntarily, feeling the fuel in his lines freezing as an unexplainable cold pressure entered through his spark and out his back. Skywarp placed a hand on Thundercracker's shoulder plates.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah... fine," Thundercracker said.

"What's the—"

Skywarp found himself unable to finish when something attached to his ankle-joints and pulled, sending the black and purple Seeker to ground on his chest. He placed his hands on the floor, preparing to stand and shoot the Autobot that had tripped him, but never got the chance…

Hands latched onto his thruster heels and pulled, dragging the Seeker down the hall and out of Thundercracker's reach.

Skywarp's fingers left purple streaks across the floors as he attempted to get away from the force pulling him. He heard Thundercracker give case, his steps fast and determined as he tried to catch up to his Seeker comrade.

Skywarp felt dizzy as the wires behind his optics stung unbearably. He felt his arms go limp as he lost motor-control before he surrendered to the overwhelming pain through his structure and went offline.

Thundercracker stopped when he saw a brief flash of purple light, signaling that Skywarp had teleported and that he was alone… but he felt far from it.

Immediately after Skywarp had disappeared Thundercracker felt someone behind him staring at the back of his helm.

_"Thundercracker..."_

Thundercracker's optics widened minutely; the voice didn't speak to him orally… he heard it as clear as day in his mind and what was most disturbing about it was that it the voice sounded like Skywarp's. He turned his head slightly over his shoulder to see a humanoid white shadow behind him with no discernable facial features except a set of glowing yellow optics.

"_THUNDERCRACKER!"_

Thundercracker's optics widened in alarm when the vocals changed from Skywarp's voice to something much deeper and aggressive. He whirled around the face the being, only to discover that there was no one there.

Thundercracker did the only logical thing he could think to do and headed as far away from the voice as he could.

* * *

Astrotrain, Blitzwing and Reflector passed by Dragstrip and Wildrider in Combaticon Hall, nearly bumping into them due to the lack of light that appeared to of affected the entire base. Astrotrain wondered if it was just him, or if the others were having difficulty with their optic settings; it was nearly impossible to get their optics to brighten and adjust to the lack of light, as if they were being sabotaged.

Swindle and Vortex appeared as they rounded the corner.

"Hey, you guys are never gonna believe this!" chimed Swindle with the nod of his head, motioning them to come with them. The three mechs followed the two Combaticons around the corner and they were right, they didn't believe it at first…

At chest-level, Skywarp's offline form stuck out from the purple wall of the Nemesis. Frankly the three weren't surprised after they got over small shock; Skywarp wasn't the most intelligent choice to give teleportation to—something idiotic was bound to happen as a result.

"He just appeared all of a sudden, nearly scared the slag out of us," Swindle chuckled ineptly.

_"You,"_ Vortex corrected.

"Is he online?" questioned Reflector.

"Doesn't look like it," Swindle answered.

A dark smile crept on Blitzwing's faceplates. "Well… then we should wake him up!"

Unfortunately the brusque Triple-Changer never got the opportunity use the Seeker as a punching bag until he woke up, instead Skywarp jolted online, his hands waving frantically in front of him as in need to grasp on to something. He eventually calmed himself to see that he had teleported to another level… and got himself stuck in the wall. The funny thing was he didn't recall teleporting. In fact, the last thing he remembered was… being dragged down the hall and being consumed with pain, and then everything went dark after that.

"How the frag did I get here?" Skywarp questioned quietly to himself.

"You should hold that pose so Reflector can take a picture," mocked Blitzwing. The others, even the camera bot(s), snickered at the remark. Their amusement was short lived…

A loud crash thundered through the hall, sounding as if a bomb had gone off. Swindle and Vortex were the first to give chase, followed by the Triple-Changers and Reflector. Skywarp tried to teleport, only to find that he was unable to. He ran personal scans through his systems, trying to locate the problem; until then he couldn't really do anything else, but, _hang around_…

The group turned the corner to find nothing.

They were all certain that they heard something that sounded like a bomb, but there appeared to be no evidence whatsoever.

Astrotrain got that feeling again…

That feeling of being watched—that they were all being watched. He looked over his shoulder plates to find that he wasn't the only one who thought so…

It was amazing how unnaturally quiet they had all become, seemingly too frightened and awkward to do anything but try and convince themselves that they were not being watched.

Astrotrain stiffened from repulsion and surprise when he felt a presence lingering by the right side of his body; the feeling of familiar optics staring at him with malicious content making the fuel in his lines turn cold.

"You alright Astrotrain?" Swindle asked, noticing Astrotrain's fear stricken expression.

No, he wasn't. He knew who was next to him…

_"Hello Astrotrain—remember me?"_

Unable to take it any longer, Astrotrain swung his fist through the air, missing his intended target and spiraling in the wall; his ventilation systems working in overdrive to cool his overheated circuitry.

When he calmed down, he noticed that he wasn't the object of observation that he would have thought he would be, instead he noticed that the others had their optics fixed on another at the end of their hall.

Astortrain turned to see what they were staring horrified at…

Oversight, in all of his dismembered glory stared at them with the most devious and humored smile that would put the Unmaker to shame. Though he was shaded by darkness, they all saw him as if he was presenting himself in broad daylight, as if there was a glow emanating from him that allowed them to make out his form.

He grinned and threw his head back, letting out a deep, reverberating cackle that echoed not only echoed through the hall, but in their very minds as well. Reflector and the Triple-Changers knew that their weapons would have little to no effect on Oversight, but that didn't stop the Combaticons…

They fired at the entity, their fire going directly through him and impacting the wall behind him… and almost hitting Blast Off and Brawl who had to fall to their aft plates to avoid getting shot.

"Watch it!" Brawl yelled, raising a fist in their direction.

They couldn't have cared less about their presence; all that mattered was that the Autobot had vanished.

Something clamped onto two of Vortex's rotor blades, causing him to arch his back from discomfort and surprise; a yelp of pain escaping him.

_"Care for a __**spin**__ Vortex?"_

Vortex fell to his knee plates, his fists clenching as pain swept through his back when he felt three of his rotor blades being painfully twisted one by one like lime slices. The Decepticon interrogator cried out involuntarily when he felt it pull him to his back and start to drag him down the hall.

He felt someone grasp his ankles and pull back. He onlined his optics to see Swindle trying to pull him.

He immediately wished he didn't lean his head back to look at the Autobot pulling him, instead was a huge humanoid white mist with two yellow optics glowing from its gaseous figure; staring down at him with extreme malice.

"Let 'em go!" Swindle cried, pulling back his fellow Combaticon.

Despite being tugged back and forth, he could have sworn he saw the figure's head tilt in an amused manner before releasing him and practically throwing him at Swindle.

The group of confused Decepticons stared at the humanoid mist as the Autobot/Oversight walked backwards with a smirk and dissolved before them.

Brawl asked the question on all of their processors...

"What the frag was that?"

The only thing they knew was that it certainly was no Autobot.

Astrotrain, Reflector and Blitzwing did nothing but glance at the paranormal newcomers with sympathy…

* * *

Thundercracker ducked his head when Laserbeak flew around the corner, Ravage trailing behind the condor. He looked over his shoulder plates briefly to see them disappear, not interested in them as his efforts to contact Skywarp kept ending up in failure.

Then suddenly…

**((TC! I'm in Combaticon Hall... I'm going to need your help with urr... **_**something**_**.))**

**((Alright I'm on my way…))**

He walked to Combaticon Hall hastily, taking the stairs (hardly used, but a useful last resort when the elevator as out). His thruster heels clicking as he descended down the rail-less purple steps.

_"Thundercracker!"_

He whirled around, his arm cannons up in reaction –pointing at nothing. He knew he heard his name called; it was as if someone had just yelled it into his audio receptors. He put them down and turned back around to continue to go down the stairs, thinking it as nothing.

He was grabbed around the neck, thrown forward and sent rolling down the stairs. His back hit the back of the door of the Combaticon's level with a pained grunt, his dental plates bared. He quickly regained himself and looked up at the steps to see nothing but the paint scratches and dents he left behind.

He rebooted his optics; baffled to see nobody there. He knew he felt someone grab him.

He stood up, his optics still on the steps as he opened the door, heading into the dark hall. He turned the corner and quirked an optic ridge. With their back to him, Reflector, the Triple-Changers, Swindle, Brawl, Blast Off and Vortex—who was on the ground, his rotors twisted—stared down the hall in silence.

Thundercracker walked forward, stopped between the Triple-Changers who didn't seem to notice him until he asked them what was wrong.

Blitzwing intook air through his vents and said: "Why don't ya take a stroll and find out Thundercracker?"

Thundercracker rolled his optics and moved forward, rounding the corner and ignoring the passing glances he felt pressing into his back. His optic ridges rose when he saw Skywarp in the wall, a look of pondering boredom on his facial features.

"Stuck in the wall again Skywarp?" Thundercracker asked rhetorically.

Skywarp looked up to see his wing mate arrived. He rolled his optics and sighed. "Yeah. _Again_."

Thundercracker offered solutions as he walked towards the black and purple teleporter. "Did you restart your teleportation systems?"

"Check," Skywarp said, his vocals heavy with annoyed disappointment.

"Check for viruses corrupting your systems?"

"Check," Skywarp said, his index digit drawing the symbol in the air.

"Hmm… maybe your power-chip rectifier is disconnected," offered Thundercracker.

"No," Skywarp said shaking his head before stopping and thinking more heavily on it. "Maybe… but how the frag could they get disconnected without me hampering with them?"

"It doesn't matter…"

"Yeah it does, I want to know!" Skywarp cried.

Thundercracker suppressed a humored smile. "Alright… let's get you out of the wall, looks like you other half is in Onslaught's quarters," Thundercracker said, backing up slightly as he activated his arm cannons.

Skywarp paused and then replied: "Yep, feels like it, I can feel a berth or something against my legs."

Thundercracker raised his arm cannons, the end of his powerful weapons adjusting into a smaller setting**. **"Stand still."

"Don't worry I am," Skywarp said, Thundercracker was not sure if he was joking or being serious; it sounded like both.

Thundercracker fired with precision, blasting away carefully metal from Skywarp's form and giving the Seeker room to move. Thundercracker stopped firing momentarily to see his work; he could already see Onslaught's quarters on the other side through the large ring of space he blasted. Skywarp could now wiggle, but he wasn't quite free yet. Thundercracker continued to fire until there was room enough for Skywarp to get out.

Thundercracker backed away as Skywarp attempted to crawl through the hole and free himself.

His body suddenly jerked and his optics widened. He was jerked again, much more powerfully than the last.

"TC!" Skywarp called his optics wide as he braced his hands against the walls of the opening.

Skywarp's hands slipped and he sank deeper into Onslaught's quarters. "TC something's got me!"

Thundercracker grabbed Skywarp's hand and pulled—and whatever had Skywarp pulled back.

Thundercracker latched onto Skywarp when he looked behind him and could not find the one continually pulling on him. Thundercracker was about to lose the game of tug-of-war when suddenly he gained the upper-hand and grabbed under Skywarp's arms, then his waist until finally whatever had Skywarp gave up, sending both Seekers to the ground.

Next to each other on the ground, they stared at the hole, failing to find who had been pulling him.

A face with yellow optics appeared, looking at them as if it was a giant keyhole. It smiled before disappearing from sight.

Thundercracker and Skywarp watched as it materialized through the wall—a green and blue Autobot with devastating damage done to half to half of its body—smile mockingly down at them and disappear out the wall they leaned against.

The Seekers looked at each other, wondering if the other could answer for what the just happened.

* * *

Out of all the mechs in the Nemesis to wander around the dark without a buddy, why—why in the name of Primus—did it have to be him? He'd settle for Motormaster or Starscream—anything was better than being alone in the Energon Storage Room by himself; constantly having the feeling that he was being watched.

Breakdown whirled around, his gun in front of him.

He was trapped.

The only reason he had gone into the Energon Storage Room was because he thought he was following another Decepticon there (he never did get a good look at who it was, it looked like Dead End) now he saw that he didn't follow a fellow Decepticon…he followed someone else.

He tried to leave but the doors closed on him and wouldn't open when he punched in the codes. Did he forget what it was? Could they have been changed? Why? Why didn't anybody tell him that they changed the codes?

Then all the lights in the Storage Room went out and that was when he felt even more uncomfortable; despite the energon providing some light.

It wasn't long until after several long breems of hearing nothing but silence, did he start to feel that he wasn't alone in the room…

He heard the same footsteps he had been hearing for ages; they happened so frequently now that he was able to identify when it was a fellow mech…or the other. The Decepticon's footsteps were sluggish but quiet, but the_ others_ footsteps were neater and subtle but purposely loud.

What sounded like a faint chirp caught his immediate interest, freezing the paranoid Stunticon's lubricant.

He hated this; he hated being alone like this… or not alone—whatever slaggin' predicament he was in!

He heard something slam; metal against metal on the far side of the room. He knew he heard it.

"Who's there—I'm not in the mood for games so just come out!" Breakdown called, trying to sound like a soldier instead of some scared-senseless civilian. Surprisingly he received an answer…

"It's me Breakdown; I'm trying to repair the circuit breakers. Come here I need the extra light."

Breakdown sighed in relief. "Dead End! I knew I saw you come in here!"

Breakdown approached the energon corridor that led to the circuit boxes with elation; comfortable for the first time since arriving in the room. He could see Dead End's dark figure already kneeled in front of the circuit box, his form decorated with a kaleidoscope of colors from the glowing energon cubes nearby.

With his gun swinging by his side, he approached his fellow Stunticon… and felt his paranoia return. He didn't know why, but there was something in him that screamed to turn back and re-try to get the door open.

He reached the end of the walkway, Dead End's back to him.

It was a little odd that he didn't acknowledge him at first, but it wasn't as if he had never done it before.

Breakdown switched on his headlights, giving the Stunticon light.

He wasn't working. The panel was open but Dead End's hands were at his side, strangely balled as if he was concealing something inside them that Breakdown wasn't allowed to see. Breakdown also could not hear Dead End's systems running.

"Are you alright Dead End?" Breakdown asked, unsettled by his behavior.

Dead End's hands flinched open and closed to quickly for Breakdown to get a good look at what he was holding, but he was definitely holding something…

Breakdown's headlights flickered and he stepped back, unexplainably dizzy. He lifted a hand to his helm briefly, an expression of fear upon his face.

"Dead End...?"

Dead End turned his head very slowly, standing up as his head rotated to Breakdown…

The Lambo Countach's optics widened in horror at what he saw; his vocalizer shut off as if unconsciously trying to keep himself from screaming.

It was if someone had stolen all of Dead End's facial features—or never installed them: his visor, his optics, his olfactory unit and even his mouth plates were all gone; his face was completely blank.

The feeling of a thousand optics on him penetrated him right to the spark, the same feeling he got when his invisible stalker paid him a visit. He started to back away a couple steps, but still managing to hold his ground; thinking that Dead End was somewhere within the monstrosity he was encountering.

"Dead End please tell me that is you…"

The sound of the laborious ventilating was Breakdown's answer and it sounded terrifyingly alien to him.

His jaw hinged moved and what appeared to be a mouth opened but still not quite; there was nothing but a gaping hole and rubbery lines of goo stretching from one end to the other of his lipless mouth like prison bars as a strained croak emanated from it.

Dead End—whatever it was pretending to be—raised his hands and presented to Breakdown what he had been holding...

Optics, lip components and an olfactory sensor fell from his hands and rolled to Breakdown's feet. Breakdown shivered uncontrollably when he saw the two optics _staring_ up at him.

Breakdown turned back to see hands reached out for him.

_"Your turn..."_

Breakdown turned and fled, transforming into his alt mode and revving his engine; gunning for the exit. His tires left black marks across the purple floor of the room as Breakdown swerved out of the corridor and drove through the door of the Energon Storage Room, refusing to let something as petty pain slow him down as he aimed for the elevator.

He transformed and pounded his fingers against the pad, trying to desperately get the door open, then he remembered that the power was out and therefore corrupted all things electrical on the floor… including the elevator which he so desperately needed, especially when he looked over his shoulder plates and noticed the only other resident on the floor stalking towards him with a blood-thirsty and sticky grin.

"Fraggin' no!" cried Breakdown, banging on the door as if expecting the machine to hear his pleas.

_"Futile, futile, futile!"_

It wasn't the way he walked towards him, arms stretched-out looking to terminate him, the faceless-face or the fact that he was alone with him and trapped, no… the most frightening thing for Breakdown was how he mimicked Dead End; his voice, his form and the fact that he usually went to Dead End when he had a problem… now Dead End _was _the problem.

Breakdown shrunk against the elevator's doors until his aft hit the floor as it approached closer to him. For a moment, mere feet away from him he brought up his gun and fired, hitting him point blank in the chassis… but it did nothing but make the being smile.

He hovered over him for a long, painful moment before finally reaching down.

Breakdown screamed.

* * *

Starscream, Onslaught (who was paired with Starscream) and Motormaster had the unfortunate _pleasure _of bumping into each other in Constructicon Hall, both chasing the same mech down different corridors and ending up at the same hall.

"Where's he go? I just saw the Autobot," Motormaster said, as if stating the reason for running into the Seeker.

"As did we," Onslaught said. "We nearly lost him, but I caught him trying to sneak by me. Little good it did…"

Starscream smirked and turned towards the end of the hall, which led to the Med Bay doors.

"And now there is nowhere to hide… poor little Autobot," Starscream grinned, his crimson optics dancing from each of the Constructicons personal quarters to the Med Bay.

The doors of the Med Bay opened making the three mechs raise their weapons in reaction.

Mixmaster and Bonecrusher passed through them and stopped momentarily when they saw the three team commanders at the end of the hall, bringing their weapons down when they saw it was just them.

"When is the fraggin' power going get back on?" Motormaster called, his headlights shining on the two green and purple mechs.

"When Hook and Scrapper are done repairing it!" Bonecrusher called back to them as he and Mixmaster continued walking to them. "You find the Autobot yet?"

"Soon enough Constructicon… he is somewhere in this hall!" Starscream answered.

Bonecrusher and Mixmaster exchanged glances with each other and grinned. Mixmaster giggled maniacally. "Then l-let's get him!"

After the alchemist uttered those words, a loud animalistic growl sounded behind them, making the two Constructicons flinch in reaction and back away from it. More sounds continued as the laws of physics and logic were suddenly forgotten…

The doors opened and closed with a will of their own, the lights flickered spasmodically, personal belongings and equipment broke as they were pushed from their selves, some even thrown at the mechs in between the unexplainable malfunction with the doors.

The mechs batted the objects away, flabbergasted at what was happening…

Then it all stopped, returning the hall back to what it was moments ago, but leaving the Decepticons pondering if what had happened had actually occurred or not.

A thud came from Hook's quarters, momentarily ripping them away from trying to come up with logical explanations and reminding them that the Autobot was still somewhere to be found.

Starscream and Motormaster approached the Constructicon's room, evidence scattered across Hook's always impeccably clean room that the incident had occurred.

Starscream smirked maliciously. "Come out wherever you are Autobot…"

With their weapons powering up, they inspected the strangely empty room. Where the slag was this Autobot?

Starscream's optics flickered to Hook's storing closet and walk towards it, his arms cannons prepared to slag any Autobot scum that jumped out. Motormaster noticed where Starscream's attention had been diverted to and raised his weapon, also prepared for the Autobot to come from the closet.

Starscream opened the closet and to his anger and confusion there was no Autobot in sight.

"What!" Starscream cried angrily, his optics wide as his blue hands brutally brushed through Hook's things as if looking for the Autobot. But there was nothing but shelves of disorganized equipment—now thanks to Starscream.

Starscream turned his back to the closet, appearing to continuingly look for the Autobot as if he snuck by him.

"That's impossible!" Starscream cried. "Where _is _he!"

Two dark arms crossed over Starscream's red chest and snatched him back, pulling him into the closet and shutting the door before Motormaster could aid the Air Commander.

Starscream's back hit the shelves of the closet, knocking equipment from them and sending them to the floor. Starscream dug his blue thruster heels into the floor as he struggled to rid himself of the scathing hot pair of dark arms, embracing him roughly from behind and keeping him trapped in the storing closet.

Then they were gone and Starscream was pushed forward, hitting the closed doors of his cramped Constructicon prison.

He whirled around, his optics scanning every inch of the closet for the Autobot. There was no one. Uncomfortably he turned his back and pounded on the doors.

Much to his annoyance, they didn't open, so he tried a different, less dignified method…

"Get me OUT of here! NOW!" Starscream called to Motormaster and the other Decepticons.

"Is Starscream trapped in the closet? Is he—is he?" he heard Mixmaster giggle on the other side.

"Obviously," Onslaught came.

"Get me out now!" Starscream cried, banging a fist on the door to empathize his demand.

"You slag that Autobot?" questioned Bonecrusher on the other side.

"I err..." Starscream looked at the damaged debris littering the floor, but found no Autobot. But what had pulled him? Was it his imagination? "No, the cowardly scum must still be in the room somewhere."

"Where?" Onslaught questioned. "There's nowhere he can hide—"

"There!"

Gunfire was heard on the other side of the door, causing Starscream to cease his persistent banging to listen; trying to figure out what exactly was happening. It was the Autobot they were firing at—a sparkling brat could see that.

"Where'd he go?" Motormaster's voiced boomed.

"He got out!" Bonecrusher answered.

"There is no possible way he could have—I was guarding the door the entire time," Onslaught said.

"Then where the frag-"

Motormaster's voice broke away and instead transformed into small, strangled bursts of expelled ventilated air. Starscream heard knees his hit the floor (oh he knew what knee plates against the floor sounded like) and Motormaster started to wheeze.

"S-Something's got me!" he choked out. "I-It's digging into my... neck joint! Fraggin shoot him!"

"There's nobody there—shoot _who_?" Mixmaster cried, confused.

The lights came on in the closet, blinding the Seeker who had his optics set on their brightest setting for the dark. He groaned slightly and covered his optics until his systems finished adjusting.

The doors slid open and Starscream stumbled forward, his weight on the door disappearing. The others stared at Motormaster as he rubbed his dented neck plates with one hand and beat his wide chest as if trying to pound his ventilation units to work again.

"I'll dismantle you all! Why didn't you fraggin' shoot him!" demanded the Stunticon, furious. "He was right behind me and you didn't even fire!"

"There was no one here but us," Onslaught said, stepping away from the door. "How do we shoot what we can't acknowledge is there?"

"There was someone—he's was fraggin' choking' me!" the Stunticon argued. Motormaster reached out for Starscream, his black hands going around the Seeker's throat, his fingers digging in his neck joints to demonstrate an example—not too gently too. "Just like this!"

"There was nobody shoot at Stunticon!" Onslaught argued. "How were we…"

Onslaught trailed off into horrified silence when he saw the Stunticon's optics change from purple to black in a matter of astro-seconds and his expression go dead-pan just as fast. Starscream noticed it to and tried to pry himself from the Stunticon's grip, only to feel it tighten even more.

"Release me Motormaster or I'll have you turned into scrap!" Starscream cried, his blue hands on the Kenworth's massive black arms.

"Not_ nearly_ how I did it..."

The Decepticon's optics widened at the remarkable vocal change, it sounded like two voices speaking; one that belonged to Motormaster, and the other was considerably lower and hollow.

Starscream back hit the wall as his feet left the floor at the same time, unbearable pressure on his throat as the Stunticon's hands tightened and dug painfully into the Seekers neck, feeling as if he was attempting to claw out Starscream's vocalizer.

"G-GET HIM OFF ME!"

Onslaught, Bonecrusher and Mixmaster rushed forward to try and pry the Stunticon away. Their attempts didn't last long.

Onslaught was thrown onto his back when something grabbed him around the mid-section from behind, his back hit the floor and Motormaster's foot hit him in the chassis, pinning the Combaticon down.

Bonecrusher punched the Stunticon on the side of the face, causing the mech to release one hand from Starscream's throat, grab the side of the Contructicon's head and bash it into the wall—so hard he was nearly went offline.

Mixmaster reached for the Stunticon's arm and prepared to pull his arms away…

Mixmaster cried out in pain as a sudden scorching heat took a hold of the delicate circuits in his hands; feeling as if acid were melting them. He backed away from the Stunticon, forgetting all about them as he stumbled into the wall and looked down at his hands that trembled in agony.

In desperate attempts to free himself, Starscream raised his arm and fired his null rays right into Motormaster's chassis…

Though he flinched, they appeared to cause no other damage; he remained mobile and continued on strangling him.

Motormaster smiled an unsettling smile; his dark optics widened with amusement. A laugh escaped from Motormaster's vocalizer and Starscream couldn't help but let his optics widen…

It was _his_ laugh, mimicked by the Stunticon; every high, snarky and condescending pitch of it.

"Your pitiful weapon is useless against me Second-in-Command…" the Stunticon whispered maliciously, still mimicking Starscream voice."As are all of yours…"

Before Starscream could reply, Motomaster's optics flickered until they returned to normal.

Motormaster rebooted them as his processor tried to collect itself. _What had happened and why were his systems functioning at their lowest percent?_ Motormaster felt weight in his hands and his foot planted on something that had a grasp of his leg.

He looked down to see Onslaught struggling to get out from under his weight and Starsceam dangling in his grip. He dropped the Air Commander and stepped off Onslaught. He brought his hands to his helm, the room spinning around him. He tripped over something and fell backwards, his systems once again shutting down one by one until he was offline.

Starscream brought his hands to his throat, rubbing it as his neck joints throbbed; his fingers tracing sore hand-marks dented into his throat.

Bonecrusher began to recover, stirring groggily before his visor reactivated. He stood and walked over to assist Mixmaster who was still looking down at his hands; wincing softly in pain.

Bonecrusher nudged Mixmaster slightly to the door; the alchemist complied.

They disappeared, leaving behind the offline Stunticon, the irate Seeker and the pondering Combaticon who rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the Stunticon and trying to come up with an explanation for what caused Motormaster to suddenly turn on them—and why he had mimicked Starscream's vocals.

Starscream scoffed angrily, catching the attention of Onslaught who saw the Seeker staring down at the Stunticon and his nulls rays lividly.

"What?" Onslaught questioned.

"My systems indicate that my null rays are working at full potential, yet they didn't help me to subdue that traitorous dirt-roller," Starscream spat.

"Perhaps it was a momentary glitch," Onslaught offered, staring down at the Stunticon suspiciously. "Besides it's unimportant considering what he did."

"UNIMPOR—" Starscream paused, slowly agreeing. "Yes… and he'll be thrown in the brig for a twenty solar weeks because of it!" Starscream cried, his optic ridges furrowing in anger. "No one attacks me without punishment!"

As Starscream and Onslaught continued to stare down at Motormaster's offline form with disdain, unbeknownst to them, Oversight passed the door behind them; smirking at them as he passed.

* * *

Soundwave stopped working on the elevator's panel when it suddenly whirred back to life; the box rebooting as the lights flickered back to life. Soundwave paused, closed the box, stood and placed his tools back into subspace.

"Power is restored to the base; we may proceed," Soundwave announced.

"Finally!" Megatron spat with a frown. "We have been trapped in this elevator long enough to have our entire headquarters renovated!"

True, they had been stuck in the elevator for nearly twenty breems… plenty of time for the entity to cause damage.

The elevator stopped at the level the Energon Storage Room was located due to someone requesting it. The elevator's doors opened and a hand latched onto Soundwave's foot. Megatron and Soundwave looked down to see Breakdown at their feet.

Breakdown flinched and backed away, not expecting another mech in the elevator and he registered it as one mech and one mech only…

With a frightened gasp he drew his hand back and scurried backwards like and organic crab, his offline optics panning frantically around him. Soundwave noticed it before Megatron and understood why the paranoid mech was afraid of them…

He had been attacked. His optics had been damaged though his lenses appeared intact besides being offline; energon was stained around dented and discolored parts around his optics.

"Leave me alone!" Breakdown bellowed, standing up. He let out a small _oomph_ when he blindly ran into the wall.

"Breakdown."

"Soundwave...?" he relaxed at the familiar monotone voice, but his facial plates quickly twisted back into grief and fear.

"No! It's just another trick!" Breakdown cried, his hands in front of him as he uncoordinatedly stepped backwards with shaky legs. "I won't fall for it again!"

Breakdown tried to bolt but Soundwave grabbed him when he stepped forward. Breakdown struggled, but Soundwave held the hysterical mech.

"No! Nothing more! Don't take anything else!" Breakdown pleaded.

"Enough!" Megatron ordered. "Get yourself together you imbecile!"

Breakdown slowly and hesitantly stopped struggling sensing that it was them. "Megatron... Soundwave— sirs. I-I'm sorry… I can't see you."

"What happened?" questioned the Decepticon leader, he scowled and asked: "Was it the Autobot?"

"No… I mean, I don't know…" Breakdown admitted, hanging his head. "I don't know who he was…"

"What do you mean you do not who he was?" demanded Megatron, narrowing his metallic eyebrows at the pitiful answer.

"Lord Megatron… _please_… I don't know _who_ he was…" Breakdown relented, trembling slightly.

Megatron bared his dental plates at the trembling mech before him with utter disgust, shaking like some weakling sparkling. "Fool… I should rip out the remainder of your optics!"

Breakdown continued to shake, as if he had no control over his body whatsoever. Megatron threw an obsidian hand through the air. "Get him out of my sight!" he ordered.

Megatron passed by them, heading towards the Energon Storage Room. "You best pray that no cubes are missing Breakdown, for I'll take the fuel out of your lines to compensate."

Breakdown felt Soundwave pull him to the door and he followed even though his feet didn't seem to obey as he stumbled slightly to the elevator; Soundwave was the only reason he was standing upright.

Soundwave stopped and let go of one of his arms momentarily to press the button. He heard the doors close but he didn't feel the elevator move. He immediately felt his circuitry start to overheat, his spark spinning faster and faster as paranoia set in. _Oh no—this was a trap!_

He flinched when he felt the Communications Officer's fingers at the back of his neck and struggled in reaction.

"Cease struggling Breakdown," Soundwave ordered as the tips of his digits separated and let thin wires latch on to Breakdown's wires, connecting into his cerebral circuits that fed signals to his mainframe.

Breakdown shuttered once but didn't put up a fight; feeling oddly relaxed and sedated. He dipped his head lower when Soundwave pushed his neck gently, giving more room for the telepath's fingers to roam and search for the moments before Breakdown went blind…

Images flashed across Soundwave's visor as he connected with Breakdown's memory banks; replaying the events in the Energon Storage Room from Breakdown's point of view.

He glanced at Breakdown, the blue mechs fingers detaching themselves from the Stunticon's neck. Breakdown blindly at the mech when he heard a button being pressed and the elevator start to move.

The elevator stopped on Constructicon Hall and Soundwave led the Stunticon down the corridor; serving as his temporary seeing-eye dog.

He could sense disturbance and ill-tempers in the air before the two entered the Med Bay… and saw the mark that the entity had left over the past couple of breems.

Bonecrusher was servicing Mixmaster's hands. Motormaster's offline form was left against the side of the door like a pile of spare parts that had been dropped off. Vortex lay on his chassis on a nearby berth as Scrapper began bending the helicopter's rotors back into place and Skywarp was sitting on another medical slab with a mainframe plug in his helm and Scavenger taking a look at his power chip rectifier.

They looked up to see Soundwave and Breakdown at the door, their optics widening minutely at the sight of his damaged optics. Soundwave lead him to Hook's table and handed him over to the Constructicon for repairs.

"Breakdown has damage to the wires behind optic lenses," Soundwave told him. "Medical attention required."

And with that, Soundwave departed, searching to find out what else the ghost had done to the base.

* * *

Megatron stood fuming in the Energon Storage Room when his optics caught sight at the drained cubes that littered the floor at his feet. His fists clenched in rage; it was an obvious insult directed at him. Not only had they helped themselves to his energon cubes, but they left empty ones behind as a mocking blow.

The Autobots would pay for this—he guaranteed it!

He stormed out of the Energon Storage Room, his next mission to find out what exactly happened during his time with Soundwave in the elevator.

Oversight smiled from on top of a stack of cubes nearby, dissolved into a black apparition and then vanished completely.

* * *

**A/N:** The movie quote is not a horror movie but the line is sure inspiration enough. Gotta love Bette Davis! ^^ This was my longest chapter for this story to date and I hope it wasn't disappointing.

Next Chapter: The Cons will finally figure it out…_ promise_.

Thanks for reading! Till next time…


	10. Omens

**_THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA _**

**Chapter 10**

**"Omens"**

A blue finger willingly hailed the communication request but not enthusiastically. A pang of dread immediately hit him when he saw that his enemy was surpassed his usual foul mood.

"Megatron," was the only thing that Optimus Prime could bring himself to say.

The Decepticon leader didn't finish their usual scorning return of their designations, instead he went right to the reason he was contacting the Autobot leader. "I believe you have something that belongs to _me_."

"And what exactly?" questioned Optimus Prime, a brief glow of confusion in his optics.

Megatron's fist landed with a thunderous crash on his console. "You know EXACTLY what Prime— do NOT play ignorant with me!" he roared. "You will return to me the property your Autobot spy has stolen from my base immediately!"

A confused look graced the Autobot's face. "I don't know what you are talking about, Megatron."

Megatron's expression flared with anger. "Of course you do! Do not dare and try and deceive me Prime, I know one of your Autobots was in my headquarters—I have the transmission from my troops and the empty cubes he gorged himself on to prove it!"

"You of all mechs should know that none of my troops would infiltrate your headquarters without my approval, which I would never give without just cause," Optimus Prime countered. "Which there is none and therfore no reason to steal anything from you."

"Is there?" Megatron questioned, an optic ridge rising. "I hear that the humans were more than displeased about our last raid on their resources, you could say... displeased more than usual?"

Optimus didn't like what he was insinuating. "And how would you know that Megatron? We both know human opinions were never an interest to you."

"No," Megatron displaced his anger momentarily with a malicious smirk. "Just their resources... and what their worthless lives mean to you."

Optimus narrowed his optics at Megatron's statement, trying to decipher the always present and malicious subtext.

"I'll remind you once again of this Prime, seeing as you and your Autobots have forgotten it," Megatron scathed. "No one takes something from me without feeling the favor returned back..."

And with that Megatron cut the communication, leaving Optimus with that old too familiar sinking feeling he always got when he sensed that Megatron was up to no good.

* * *

A large portion of the Decepticon army could be found in the Common Room... present but not all together there. If a stranger had walked through the door they would have first mistaken the room for an exhibit of lifeless statues.

Not one Decepticon uttered a single word. The only evidence that they were functioning was the whirring of their individual systems and the periodic movements they made when they touched their lip components to an energon cube or uncomfortably moved in their seats.

It was quiet, not even the Stunticons (with the exception of Motormaster in the brig) chose to activate the monitor that would connect them to the human's network; instead they sat in the large purple chairs with nothing to say. Everyone else sat at their tables—except for Thundercracker and Skywarp who chose to lean against the wall next to the Energon Dispenser, sipping their cubes quietly.

At the table on the left side of the room, Astrotrain, Blitzwing and Reflector shared the same feeling of awkwardness and hesitation. Sometimes knowledge was worse than being ignorant; it weighed heavier on the shoulder plates.

For some of the chattier Decepticons, the silence made them antsy and agitated. Although one Con would disagree that the room was quiet...

Thrust glared dangerously at Wildrider who was twirling in his lounge chair…

_Back-and-forth, back-and-forth, back-and-forth!_

It wasn't the movement that really bothered him— it was the sound the chair was making... that audio-splitting squeak that could peel the coating off an electrum paintjob. The corner of his upper lip twitched with anger. Thrust's fingertips dug into metallic forehead, as if trying to see if self-inflicted pain could distract him from the horrible noise that seemed to intensify by the astro-second.

He finally snapped.

"Enough with the chair!"

The Conehead's outburst immediately earned the Decepticons' attention.

Wildrider paused to gaze at the Conehead, trying to figure out what he had been doing to cause the Seeker to irritably yell at him. "What?"

"You heard me ground-pounder," Thrust returned. "Keep making that squeaking noise and see how you like your head on backwards!"

The Decepticons looked at the Conehead with befuddled stares but said nothing; unsure of what exactly he was talking about.

"What're you stupid? My chair doesn't squeak," Wildrider told him, swinging the chair around to demonstrate. Not a squeak; the chair was silent.

Thrust's anger flared and he clamped his hands over his audio receptors. He couldn't hear anything else— all he heard was that squeaking...

_Back and forth… back and forth… BACK AND FORTH!_

Thrust suddenly sprang forward and ripped the chair from under him, sending Wildrider to the floor. "I told ya to knock it off!" Thrust bellowed, lifting the chair and throwing it against the nearest wall.

"What's your problem Cone-frag!" cried Wildrider as he stood up, his optics narrowed in rage.

"I'm sick of watching you—back and forth, back and forth, _squeakady, squeak, squeak_—can't you fraggin sit still?"

"Are your audios damaged? My chair doesn't squeak ya stupid glitched idiot—"

Dead End's attention drifted away from the conversation; as if he was pulled out of reality. He felt delirious; his logic sensors unable to really place where he was. His optics dimmed behind his visor, a sense of heavy dizziness taking over him...

"_What's the matter Thrust… a little nervous are we? A little anxious. A little… **scared**?"_

Dead End shook his head slightly, trying to clear his processor and shake the overwhelming nausea sweeping through his form. When he returned to the present, he noticed Thrust's attention directed at him.

"Who said I'm scared dirt-kisser?" demanded Thrust, a fist raised at Dead End.

Dead End rebooted his optics, confused. Did he say those words out loud? If he did why did he have no consciousness of doing it?

Thrust cried out when the chair that he had stolen from Wildrider threw itself at the Conehead with enough force to send the him over the table and into his comrades.

As if the air had been sucked out of the room, the Decepticon's ventilation systems suddenly shut off. Optics stared horrified at the chair that now lay harmlessly on its side, swinging softly back and forth...

Thrust recovered, a hand on his helm—from where the chair impacted him**—**and rose to his feet, his form trembling with rage.

"Who fraggin threw that?" Thrust roared, looking out frenetically for his attacker. "Show yourself and taste death!"

The doors slid opened with a hiss, causing the Cons to raise their weapons in reaction…

Ravage's head drew back in as he stopped in his tracks; wondering why guns were trained on him. The Cons lowered their weapons to their sides, their apprehensive fingers still near the triggers; there was still something in the room with them.

The doors closed and Ravage resumed walking. He wasn't able to even take a few steps forward before he caught a whiff of the entity's all too familiar sickly smell. He lowered himself to the ground in a menacing pose, growling. His lips curling back to reveal his fangs.

"What is it Ravage?" questioned Thundercracker warily, his optics panning around the room as if to assist Ravage.

Ravage turned to the Seeker, noticing that he was investigating the room, looking for it... as well as everyone else.

Yes… they _all_ felt it.

They all felt _it_...

**((You tell _me_ Thundercracker.))** Ravage communicated back to the Seeker on the Decepticon channel. Ravage stalked around the room. The Cons staring at him as he set his nose to work.

What sounded like footsteps above their heads caused them to look up; sounding as if someone was pacing very heavily on the floor. When they stopped Skywarp suddenly shivered, overcome with coldness. His optics dulled and his body tensed as a hand landed on his cockpit and over his spark; he hissed in pain.

Thundercracker approached Skywarp. "You oka—"

Thundercracker shivered as well, stifling a pained groan as he felt the same cold, painful sensation pass through him and out the back of his wings. Thundercracker and Skywarp looked at each other, their ventilation systems whirring heavily. They didn't need to say it; they both knew that they were feeling the same thing.

"What's wrong with you two?" questioned Blitzwing.

Skywarp and Thundercracker relaxed, the sickness dissipating from their systems. Thundercracker answered the Triple-Changer. "If I knew I would tell you."

The faint howling of wind was heard, dancing around the room in an untraceable pattern. The Cons did their best to follow it but they had trouble keeping up with its random path. Then it stopped.

The Decepticons could feel something in the room with them; the feeling in their fuel tanks and the trepidation racing throughout their circuitry informed them so. It felt as if someone was circling them, mere inches from each one of them... and staring at them with pure hatred.

Air grazed the right side of Dragstrip's face, as if someone had passed by him. He raised a hand to his cheek guard, amazed of how cold it was.

The seated Decepticons stood, weapons at their sides, ready for anything— they had to be.

Using common sense, Ravage could tell where the being was in the room at a present moment; it was just a simple task of picking out who was the most disturbed at that time.

Ramjet flinched and moved a couple of steps to the side. Then it moved the Scrapper who shrugged his shoulder-plates forward and looked behind him. It visited Brawl next who clenched his fist and drew it back slightly, ready to attack until it disappeared and came to Ravage.

Ravage growled, feeling it trail its hand down Ravage's spinal seem and to his tail like an pet-owner would do to i'ts housecat, making the cyber-cat arch his back in disgust.

_"Hello kitty..."_ its graveled voice taunted; laughing telepathically at him.

_"How dare you touch me!" _Ravage growled loudly as he jumped away and swiped his claws through the air. The smell left him and traveled to another part of the room.

Ravage's ears twitched and he turned to see Astrotrain sitting very uncomfortably at his table; his optics wide and his fists clenched tightly on the surface of the table as if he was being held by invisible restraints.

Astrotrain shot up and whirled around, knocking his chair over as he stared lividly around the room.

"What's wrong?" questioned Scavenger.

Ravage glanced at the Constructicon, now that he seemed to of been given the proper introduction, it was time to tell them all the purpose of his visit.

**((Isn't it obvious?)) **questioned Ravage, beginning to pace the room. **((Our** **uninvited****_ guest_ is here.))**

Astrotrain, Reflector and Blitzwing looked at Ravage, stunned, while the others stared in silence in response to Ravage's statement. It was evidence enough for Ravage; they knew what he was talking about (wither they knew it was a ghost or not).

"What uninvited guest?" asked Skywarp. The tone in his vocals suggesting that he didn't want to know the answer.

**((Don't pretend Skywarp, you've met him— we have_ all _met it.))** Ravage returned, his red optics slitting as he gazed around the room. Ravage had no doubt that it was listening in on their conversation.

"It?" questioned Scrapper.

Ravage turned to Astrotrain. **((Show them Astrotrain.))** Ravage communicated with a nod, his optics narrowing in an authoritarian stare. **((Show them what you and Reflector captured cycles ago.))**

Astrotrain tilted his head in an angered and peeved manner; a _'who do you think you are?'_ expression marring his facial features.

Ravage lowered his head. **((Don't you object. _Soundwave_ saw you taking it on the security cameras— it's time to share.))**

Astrotrain shot the cat a miff smile; he knew the meaning behind the cybertronian feline's words... "_Soundwave sent me to tell you to show the others..."_ He wasn't stupid**,** but he was also curious... did this mean that Soundwave knew that there was a ghost in the Nemesis? And for how long?

Astrotrain took the picture from subspace with an about-face and dropped it on the table, presenting the photographic evidence of the ghostly Oversight for all to see.

Thundercracker chose to be the hesitant, but brave first to dare a look. Thundercracker brought the photo to his face and his optics widened.

"That's the Autobot that attacked me and Skywarp..."

More Decepticons approached the Triple-Changer's table, gathering around the blue Seeker to see for themselves. Their expressions reflected Thundercracker's when they saw the apparition of the mech that attacked them as well.

Astrotrain glanced at Ravage while the others remained distracted by the odd picture. "How long has he known?" asked Astrotrain, his optics stern.

**((Only a little longer than you three have.))** responded Ravage, who glanced at the other two mechs who weren't looking at the picture (the two that were present with Astrotrain).

"Why is he like that?" asked Swindle. "Why is he shaded like that— a glitch or something?"

"No," Reflector piped, defending his picture. "How you see him is how he is."

The Decepticons drew their heads back in confusion. Ramjet shook his head. "I've never seen a 'Bot look like that."

"That's cause it's not an Autobot," chimed Blitzwing, crossing his arms over his chassis.

"Then what the slag is he?" Brawl questioned. The others looking at Blitzwing and waiting for him to enlighten them.

The huge monitor switched on, causing the mechs to jump slightly from the sound of the screechy static. Dead End, thinking nothing of it, approached the monitor and switched it off.

The Decepticons turned to the Triple-Changer, still awaiting an answer. Blitzwing's vocalizer shut of it's own accord; unable to speak the taboo word that would no doubt make them laugh... _and _humiliate him.

"Tell them Astrotrain," said Blitzwing. Astrotrain sent Blitzwing a deplorable look, his head shaking angrily as his optics narrowed in hatred.

"Frag you—you can tell them," Astrotrain returned, he knew what his_ friend _was doing. "You started this conversation Blitzwing."

"Tell us _what_?" demanded Thrust.

"What? Frag you Astrotrain it's your fraggin' ghost—"

The word may have slipped out unintentionally, but was caught by every audio receptor.

Waiting for the inevitable had never been so embarrassing for the Triple-Changers, it was almost as humiliating as if they had been laughing their afts off the astro-second they heard what their explanation was. Instead, the reaction was quieter than what they expected. There were a couple of chuckles and a lot of concerned Transformers staring at them, wondering if they were crazy.

Scrapper's visor dimmed and then brightened as he gave his head a light, doubtful shake. "A what?" His vocals in their most dubious register.

**((A ghost.))** Ravage clarified without hesitation; embarrassment was a petty emotion that never controlled him. **(( The spirit of a deceased individual. An apparition. A spirit— take your pick. It's what is in the Nemesis and has been causing all these disturbances. That picture is one of many pieces of evidence that support it.))**

Silence... and then Wildrider suddenly burst into laughter. "You've have got to be fraggin' kiddin' me!"

A few others joined in.

"Are you outta of your processor?" Brawl questioned who had to agree with the Stunticon.

Ravage snarled, narrowing his optics. He hated stubbornness...

"I agree," Dead End stepped forward. "There is a logical explanation for all of these phenomenons."

"Yeah? Like what?" Blitzwing demanded.

"If I knew Triple-Changer I—"

Astrotrain interrupted him. "Let me ask you something Dead End... have you ever seen an Autobot sneak around the base like he did to all of us last night? How come none of us were able to slag him? And what about what just happened—right now with the chair! They don't throw themselves at Coneheads."

Dead End sighed in annoyance, shaking his head in a disbelievingly and annoyed manner, repulsed that this is what they had come to; to believe in superstitious explanations to comfort their rationality.

"There is no such thing as _life_ after death."

A screech caused the Decepticons to turn to the Constructicon table, just in time to see an energon cube slide from one side of the table to the other.

The Cons stared at the energon cube with wide, bewildered optics. _Did that just happen? _

Thundercracker approached the energon cube hesitantly while the others watched. After a deep intake of air to cool his nervous structure, Thundercracker picked up the cube and inspected it.

Nothing.

No device to pull the cube, no strings, no magnetic component on the bottom... just a regular, unaltered energon cube. Thundercracker said nothing; he didn't have to (if there was something he would have told them). His optics scanned the room timorously.

Silence drifted over the room again; the feeling that the ghost was watching them returning.

"You sure about that Dead End?" Reflector questioned, the three camera-bots eyeing the Stunticon.

Dead End stared at the three mechs. "Positive." he replied stubbornly. It would take more than that to impress and convince him.

His challenge was accepted.

A slight humming noise was heard and the Cons turned in the direction of the energon cube in Thudercracker's hand... and watched as it's contents were drained. Thundercracker hissed in pain and dropped the empty cube.

He looked at his hand to see small paint bubbles on his black palm from where the cube burned him.

A chair collided against Dead End, sending him to the ground face down—hard. Dead End groaned in discomfort but stood up. "Who threw that?" Dead End asked, his vocals a deadly whisper.

They wish they could give an answer—it would mean that they weren't insane. How could they still function and think logically knowing that they saw no one throw the chair at Dead End and that the theory of a ghost haunting the Nemesis was beginning to seem plausible.

Not one mech said a word. What could possibly be said to comfort them?

They all knew one thing... whatever was in the base, it wasn't nice. Though other Decepticons _still_ had their doubts.

Dead End was no ordinary skeptic and his beliefs on life and death could never be changed. He would not yield because a chair was thrown at him...

His optics suddenly dimmed and his processor ached, a dizzy sensation once again penetrating him. He thought he heard laughter and then a rough voice speak:_ "I'm going to enjoy breaking your strong reservations atheist..."_

Dead End didn't react to it; if he did it meant that he believed that there was a _spirit_ talking to him; mocking his attempts of refusing to believe in the supernatural reason for everything that had been happening.

Dead End still refused. No matter how much evidence there was and how undeniable it became, he would not submit; he was not programmed to believe in ghosts.

A bell rang, causing them to jump involuntarily. They sighed when they saw it had nothing to do with paranormal**—**just a reminder to start their shifts.

As if expecting something to follow the bell, the Cons hesitated for a brief second before finally departing.

Ravage followed them out, feeling both satisfied and unsatisfied. He had done what was told of him (to lay the theory on the table for the others) but after witnessing Dead End's refusal, he couldn't help but also sense it from some of the other Cons as well.

It seemed that there were still some barriers that needed to be broken. The only question Ravage had was who would accomplish doing it...

Soundwave or the entity?

* * *

Though Rumble had the view of the aquatic world, unlimited access to the human's world of mindless entertainment and the other tenants and activities in the base he could visit, his attention was focused on an activity that other Decepticons would consider boring and pointless…

Watching his twin recharge.

He hadn't wakened since he arrived and he was starting to get a little worried.

There were also other reasons for him to wait…

He wanted to know _exactly_ what Frenzy was going through. The fact that Frenzy had been keeping it from him before they began to desert each other hurt Rumble. If Frenzy had just told him in the first place, there would have been no reason for such a quarrel later— as well as the guilt Rumble was feeling for ignoring Frenzy.

The other reason was to try and see if there was anything he could do to help. Maybe if he heard Frenzy's side and what he was experiencing, he could help him. After all they experienced ghosts together when they visited that slagging island and maybe they could do what they did last time; stick together and work it out. Besides… it felt like—in Rumble's opinion— that Frenzy was the most knowledgeable about ghosts than anyone… including Soundwave; Frenzy was the one that told Rumble that it was ghosts on the island bothering them.

Rumble had all the confidence in the world in Soundwave but oddly Rumble did not feel very optimistic with how Soundwave was handling the situation; mainly because Soundwave hadn't told Megatron or the others.

No offense to his creator, but what was he slagging waiting for? Rumble had been briefed of what it had been doing all around the base not only to Frenzy and the other Cassettes, but to some of the other Decepticons as well, and now that Rumble had actually seen it interact with Soundwave, it was another blow to Rumble's confidence.

Though he hadn't actually heard the conversation he could tell that whatever it had said was enough to anger his stoic creator—not a particularly rare sight to see even being his creation. Then that shove in the shoulder-plates he gave him... as if it wasn't concerned that Soundwave knew of his existence— on the contrary he flaunted his existance.

Rumble bit his bottom lip component nervously.

This ghost was more than an illegitimate threat and it was showing that it was. There were times that Rumble had a hard time deciphering Soundwave's decisions. He understood that Soundwave needed evidence to persuade Megatron, but he had it now so why was he just sitting idly by while this thing was hurting Frenzy?

Rumble heard the doors open and turned to be greeted by his blue master lingering in the doorway, the hall lights outlining his figure. He entered, closing the door behind him and went to his desk.

"Hey boss?" Rumble greeted, his vocals melancholy. He hesistated before he asked. "Ya find anythin' new?"

Soundwave replied by sitting down in his chair and activating his monitor. Rumble didn't like being ignored, but he bit his glossa; compelled to see what Soundwave was doing.

A small slot in the side of Soundwave's wrist opened and exported a small memory chip. He collected it and slid it into his computer.

Rumble approached the edge of the berth, trying to see over Soundwave's shoulders at what he was staring at. When Rumble couldn't see, he hopped down from the berth and jumped to Soundwave's desk.

It was a mind-recording; data collected from Soundwave connecting into mechs memory banks... _memories_.

"Who'd ya pull this from boss?" asked Rumble.

"Breakdown," answered Soundwave.

"Why'd ya pull it from him?"

Soundwave said nothing, he didn't have to… the answer was showing itself on the screen.

Rumble's optics widened in horror at the sight of the huge humanoid shadow in the POV screen. He could make out the shape of the head and body— especially the clawed hands— as it hovered over Breakdown. He could hear Breakdown gasping in fright—and Rumble couldn't blame him, he was terrified for Breakdown—and then uttered a strangled cry as it reached down…

Static concluded the POV and Soundwave slid the memory chip back out after it was saved into his computer.

Rumble didn't know what to think; actually seeing it physically attack a Transformer larger than he was sent a cold chill swirling in his spark chamber. Soundwave could sense Rumble's uneasiness at watching the data and turned his head to his creation, but before Soundwave could say anything, Ravage entered.

_"Some believe and some do not,"_ Ravage communicated to Soundwave, delivering his report. _"I think though in due time... they'll see as well."_

Rumble looked to Ravage, confused and feeling left out. "Believe what?" Rumble asked.

Ravage turned to Rumble. _"That there is a ghost present in the base."_

Rumble's metallic eyebrows lifted in surprise; for some weird reason, he had been feeling as if he was the last to know about the ghost.

Ravage turned to Soundwave once again. _"I do not think they will seek it out and provoke it—most don't believe it is here anyway and the ones that do will most likely wait for Megatron's orders rather than taking the situation into their own hands… although I have my doubts about the Triple-Changers_."

Soundwave lifted his chin. "Megatron still remains uninformed."

Ravage looked to Soundwave, stunned. _"What? I thought it showed itself last night, considering the amount of activity that was rumored to of occurred."_

Soundwave stood from his chair. "Assumption: entity caused the elevator malfunction in an effort to further complicate informing Megatron. Conclusion: Megatron still remains ignorant until other Decepticons come forward with same conclusion or Megatron experiences a personal encounter."

Rumble couldn't hold his glossa anymore. "Hey boss? Once Megatron _does_ know... how are ya gonna get rid of it?"

The master of sound remained mute which didn't comfort Rumble at all; he could have really used an answer.

Ravage turned tot Rumble. _"We still no nothing of this being,"_ Ravage communicated, answering for Soundwave. _"Be patient Rumble. None of us will let this **thing** get the better of us."_

**((Soundwave.))** Megatron's voice over the Decepticon channel was an immediate conversation halter. **((Report to the Control Room.))**

**((Yes Megatron.))**

Soundwave gave one last glance at Rumble before his gaze fixed on Frenzy. He stared at the slumbering Cassette for a long moment before he departed, leaving Rumble and Ravage alone.

Ravage's scanners fixed on Frenzy, causing Ravage to minutely widen his optics; he was surprised to see Frenzy still recharging, he thought he surely be up by now.

_"Has he done anything?" _Ravage questioned.

Rumble looked at Frenzy, then back to Ravage and shook his head. "No."

Ravage said nothing, the look on his face appearing as if he was thinking.

"So.. what happened when ya' guys left? Sounds like you guys had a weird night. I kept hearin' mechs run back and forth."

_"Laserbeak and I saw nothing while others appeared to have more of an interesting night according to Soundwave. Now it would seem that Megatron is the only one who has not had an experience,"_ Ravage communicated.

The corner of Rumble's mouth tugged in a dissapointed grimace. "Why do ya think it won't show itself to Megatron?"

Ravage gave Rumble a stare as he paced—as if asking himself the same question for the first time.

_"Perhaps because it knows that Megatron won't believe anyone until he alone has an encounter and therefore halting a search for a solution**—**and keeping us divided among the base."_

"Divided?"

_"Between those who believe and do not,"_ Ravage clarified.

"Who doesn't believe?"

_"Dead End... and I could sense the Coneheads, Brawl and Scrapper had their doubts," _Ravage told him. _"They still believe there is another explanation."_

Rumble paused, thinking. Did it really matter that there were some that didn't believe as long as large majority believed?

"Maybe we don't need 'em," Rumble suggested. Ravage gave Rumble a confused stare, the cat lifting an eyebrow.

"Maybe… jus' Soundwave can do it. I mean... do we really need Megatron ta' approve for him to get rid of it?"

Ravage stared at Rumble for a long moment, studying him. _"I know you are concerned for Frenzy, but there is no need Rumble,"_ Ravage said. _"Everything Soundwave does is not only for Frenzy but for the well-being of the others. Uniting against this thing is the first thing he needs in order to accomplish helping Frenzy. If everyone knows it is here… then Soundwave can devout his time to solving this."_

A pessimistic feeling entered Rumble's spark, causing Rumble to frown; he paused before asking: "So the boss _doesn't_ know how ta get rid of it?"

Ravage looked sternly at Rumble, annoyed by his little faith. _"I did not say that."_

Rumble said nothing. Instead he looked behind him at the berth.

Ravage gave Rumble a cold stare. Rumble was worried; he didn't need a link to see that. His concern and guilt for Frenzy was getting the best of his nerves and making him pessimistic. In a way it slightly annoyed Ravage but he could understand; it was a simple psychological reaction. However, it also made Ravage a bit concerned for Rumble… it could possibly turn into a weakness.

_"Soundwave has faced harder foes in the past," _Ravage informed him._"Don't worry about anything else besides aiding Frenzy and providing him comradeship."_

"Did Soundwave ever tell ya why it was after Frenzy? He never told me and I was wonderin' if he told you," Rumble mumbled.

Ravage sighed. _"No. He does not know why it targeted him. Although he thinks it has a connection with that island you both were sent to."_

Rumble shuddered inwardly. The island... how he hated the memory of that wretched spit of land.

"I thought that too, but why does Soundwave think so?"

_"Frenzy's mind patterns are the same when he felt something enter into the link when you were on the island," _Ravage told him, leaving. _"He believes it might be the same being."_

Rumble shivered, the memory of the islancd still playing through his processor like a movie.

For once... he hoped Soundwave was wrong.

* * *

Soundwave could sense a single emotion from every mech he passed…

Fear.

A potent emotion clearly visible no matter how much they tried to disguise it; he of all mechs was the master of reading emotion—even hidden under a mask.

As he passed by them, he could also see that some were also angry at him. He speculated that Ravage must have informed them that he had knowledge of the being beforehand; the hostile looks were enough to answer his question. He also read a message beneath the looks of anger directed at him.

**_You_**_ will tell Megatron…_

Yes he would— in due time and not without the opportune moment. However after what the entity had done to the elevator last night Soundwave began to question if that moment would ever come… or if he would have to force the opportunity.

Soundwave still had his doubts. Even with evidence and the other members of the Decepticon Army that may or may not believe in the ghost, Megatron would surely not believe Soundwave—no matter how much Megatron respected his opinion.

He entered the Control Room, Laserbeak present on Megatron's shoulder as they surveyed a map of their next fuel raid. Megatron turned to greet Soundwave, and Soundwave could see by the foul look on his face that he was not in the mood for irrational explanations.

The evidence would have to remain in subspace for yet another day.

* * *

Rumble preoccupied himself with sitting in front of Soundwave's monitors, researching all he could find about ghosts; Frenzy still recharging.

Subjecting himself to the human's internet wasn't any new torture; many Decepticons besides him (mostly the Stunticons) did it to kill time, but Rumble wasn't using it to screw off.

The first thing he did was search for the haunted island they visited. Though he had deleted the coordinates from his personal memory banks (as a way to try and forget), he was able to search Soundwave's mission files on his computer for them since he was meticulous about keeping track about what the Decepticons did.

It was called 'Poveglia' and it was notorious for fleshie death—at least that was what many internet sites told him. Therefore it was a brick wall…

The large number of deaths on the island meant that it would be nearly impossible for Rumble to tell which ghost had come back with them. Besides, there weren't be any records of fleshie names. He didn't even have a name for his biggest suspect…a sadistic doctor that tortured his patients for fun.

His processor flew back to Poveglia and he could feel the uncomfortable vibes he had gotten as if he was there right now, except he now had an estimate of how many ghosts were on that island with them; looking at them, following them, touching them... _hurting_ them.

Rumble looked over his shoulder plates to his still recharging brother.

Poveglia was missing a ghost. But who? The thousands of plague victims? The insane patients? The evil doctor? _Who?_

He switched to general ghost research, trying to see if there was a way to find out.

His findings didn't give the cassette any hope at all; none of it really answered the questions he had. Most of the slag was repetitive: ghosts are shy; they just want to know who you are, what changes you were making to their environment, or they wanted to connect with you or wanted you to leave. They were just _curious_ creatures...

_Fraggin' curious his aft..._

Then there was the other research he found; it made more sense for what had been going on, but it hit Rumble right in the spark.

A dark entity. An angry ghost that looks to cause suffering and pain—who took their vengeance out on the living and in many cases, their life as compensation for their turmoil. It made the most sense out of all the research he had been doing... because Soundwave wouldn't have bothered with it if it didn't seem to be a threat.

**((Decepticons, report to the War Room for briefing.)) **

Rumble sighed after Soundwave's comm ended and he turned the monitor off.

He froze... in the reflection of the dark monitor's surface a figure stood in the background staring at the back of his head. Rumble's ventilation systems hiccupped; briefly malfunctioning from fear. He didn't move, just stared at it... waiting for it to do something. He couldn't see anything to give any clues to it's identity, the only thing he could tell was that it's gender was probably male.

Movement on another part of the monitor's screen caused him to momentarily stare away from the being behind him. Another figure rose on the reflection of the monitor…

Frenzy.

Rumble looked back in the other side of the monitor and noticed the ghost was gone.

Pressure hit the back of Rumble's helm, causing his body to roll forward. He lay sprawled on the desk, his chest crushing the keyboard beneath him. Rumble hesitantly rose, his optics catching the presence of a pistol a few feet from him.

Frenzy had thrown his gun at him.

Rumble sat up and turned to Frenzy who was sitting upright on the berth, his back leaning against the wall and a look of hatred on his face.

"Frenzy...?" Rumble called, his vocals a little shaky.

Frenzy continued to stare at him with violent malcontent… it was one of the most uncomfortable silences Rumble ever felt.

Rumble finally acted and approached, jumping from the desk to the berth and slowly walking towards his brother. "Hey? Frenzy?"

Frenzy continued to stare straight ahead.

Rumble finally closed the gap and took Frenzy's shoulders, shaking him. "Frenzy! Hey Frenz'—wake up!"

Frenzy's body shuddered slightly and after a quick reboot of his basic systems he looked at Rumble. "Rumble?"

Rumble's face lit up, relaxation entering his spark when he heard Frenzy acknowledge him. "Yeah, bro it's me… ya alright?"

Frenzy suddenly shrunk back when he looked over Rumble's shoulder-plates, pure fear upon his faceplate.

"Frenz?" Rumble questioned, his concern returning. He looked over his shoulder plates, trying to see what Frenzy was looking at but failed to find it.

Frenzy rose, backing up as Rumble tried to approach him. "Frenzy! What is it? _Talk_ ta me!"

Frenzy fought against his brother who grabbed his arms in an effort to make him stay. "No Rumble! Stop! Ya gotta get away from me!"

"Look Frenzy, is this is about ignorin' yah I'm sorry bro— I'm really sorry alright!"

Frenzy seemed to hear him even though his focus was on whatever he was staring at by Soundwave's monitor. Frenzy began to peel Rumble's fingers from him one by one...

"Please let me help ya Frenz… ya don't have ta do it alone, I believe ya Frenzy—I believe ya!"

Frenzy shuddered, an expression of extreme distress upon his face. "It ain't that Rumble… you just gotta get away from me!"

"Why?"

As much as Frenzy wanted Rumble at his side to help him, he couldn't; there was no way now that he saw the true intentions—and the true form—of his 'doctor' ghost through the hallucinogenic dreams he experienced when he recharged. If Rumble or the others accompanied him, they would die… it told him so itself.

Frenzy would have to be blunt—Rumble wouldn't leave him alone if he didn't.

"Cause I'll kill ya Rumble—I'll kill ya!"

The sentence hit Rumble with the same force of Devastator's punch, making his entire form numb and enough for Frenzy to take the opportunity and slip from his brother's grip. As his feet hit the ground he turned back to Rumble, backing away with an apologetic but terrified expression.

"Stay away from me Rumble okay? If ya really want ta help me, you'll stay away… or it'll gonna make me kill ya…"

And with that he took one fleeting glance at Soundwave's desk and fled, escaping the overbearing view of his tormentor that only he could see.

Rumble could feel his knee plates weakening, the abandonment of his twin spark-breaking.

He thought his guilt before was a clear view of what Frenzy had been feeling; now he truly knew how he felt…

Rumble felt abandoned and hopeless; and being it was his first time really experiencing those emotions, he was astounded and alarmed how heavy they could be.

* * *

Rumble was the last to make it to the War Room but he didn't care. The briefing was the last thing on his processor; the only thing he could think of was what Frenzy had said.

_Ya gotta stay away from me, or it's gonna make me kill ya…_

Ravage seemed to be the only one who noticed Rumble's entrance. Rumble jumped to the corner table where Ravage sat, waiting for the briefing to begin and distracting himself by trying to listen in on other mechs conversations nearby.

_"Where's Frenzy?" _questioned Ravage.

"I don't know Rav'—I really don't know..." Rumble lamented.

Ravage analyzed Rumble's dismayed mood with worry. It didn't take a genius to see that there was something definitely wrong.

_"What happened?"_ he questioned.

Rumble sighed, a tremor of fear going down his spinal seem. After a pause he turned to Ravage. "He said… it would make him kill us if we go near him…"

Megatron entered the War Room, silencing the hushed conversation between the other Decepticons in the room. Ravage turned to Rumble quickly, getting his last words in before they would have to focus their attention on the briefing. He wasn't too worried about the death threat; it wasn't the first time Frenzy had been forced to issue one and Ravage suspected he was doing it out of fear.

_"Keep an optic on him anyway—there's a reason it wants Frenzy alone…"_

Rumble exchanged glances with Ravage who gave him a look of dead seriousness. Rumble grimaced as the cyber-panther's words sank in…

He knew that Ravage was right—he was actually thinking about doing it despite Frenzy's warning; he couldn't stand the fact of Frenzy being alone without his help again. Perhaps hearing it suggested by another was enough for the simple-minded Cassette. He would be damned if he would let his brother suffer...

He just wished that he could go look for Frenzy now rather than having to wait for the briefing to get done.

* * *

As the Decepticons waited to depart for their fuel raid, they concealed themselves to their quarters as their weapons were being recharged and/or resupplied with fresh battery life. Unbeknownst to Megatron that they would have willingly went into battle with only half-charged weapons. Any escape—even temporarily—from the Decepticon Base would have been welcomed and refreshing to their senses. Especially for the small, lone Decepticon in the Energon Storage Room sitting on an energon cube...

Smirking to himself; his optics darkening into an ebony shade.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for sticking around for ten chapters! You guys are wonderful. :) Oh and don't worry about Megatron... he'll know soon enough. ;)  
Thanks for reading and drop a review if you wish.


	11. For the Last Time We'll Play

**A/N:** A while back a reviewer asked _'how many horror movies I had seen.'_ The answer is 48 (at least/give or take) and rising. What can I say? I love Horror movies even though Musicals are also my favorite genre. :P

Some of my favorite horror movies are: The Descent, The Omen (70's) The Exorcist, Jaws, Funny Games, The Bad Seed, The Shinning, Trick 'r Treat, The Others, Fright Night, Misery, The Sixth Sense, The Amityville Horror (70's) The Birds and of course the inspiration for this chapter... Psycho. So here's my ode to Hitchcock.

Enjoy! ^^

* * *

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 11**

**"For The Last Time We'll Play"**

* * *

**Norman Bates**: "We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't you?"  
**Marion Crane**: "Yes. Sometimes just one time can be enough."

Anthony Perkins and Janet Leigh _(Psycho)_

* * *

The serenity of the tundra was broken long ago when man was introduced to it's monetary opportunities. Since then it has long been white man's only reason to venture into the unforgiving territory. Now there was another visitor, whose purpose was the same but more deadly, destructive and speedy.

Metallic feet sank into the swampy, treeless flatland, the only escape from the watery, mosquito infested terrestrial traps were the man-made concrete ground that supported the human facilities, oil drills and equipment.

The Carthart clad oil workers—ranging from the new adults and seasoned ones; white and other ethnicities— watched from their prison as their paycheck was taken from the ground and placed inside the strange transparent cubes, identical to the large one that they were in; trapped just like the thousands of mosquitos that mercilessly continued to bite at them inside the prison.

They shrunk back when the most recognizable of the Decepticons approached their transparent jail box; the news had broadcasted his face so often that he was burned into their knowledge.

The leader, Megatron. The true representation of the Devil himself.

As his form blocked out the sun fear swept through the humans as his shadow darkened their bodies. Even though that simple act was enough to prove to them of just how inferior they were to the alien robot, he still gave the humans a malicious smirk as his crimson red optics looked down upon them with disgust and malice. Being murdered by his hands crossed all of their minds. If not now, definitely later.

The ear splitting roar of an F-15 cut through the air, causing them to wince. They watched as the red, white and blue craft reformatted it's body and dropped from the sky and landed next to the Decepticon Commander.

Even though the workers knew that they were extreme mortal danger by the giants, and even though they were frightened beyond the capacity for rational thought, seeing an aircraft of that size configure it's body into a humanoid robot was still an amazing sight… and probably the last they would ever see.

The F-15 spoke to his Commander in their strange computerized language and glanced over them with a smile of anticipating bloodlust.

Megatron smiled darkly as he relayed an order to him, his stare traveling over them as he walked away to carry on other duties.

The red, white and blue jet robot smirked softly and turned to leave as well, but not before giving the cube a small kick with his thruster heel— causing them to jump. His screechy laugh both angered and scared them as he walked away, reminding them again that they were at their mercy no matter what help came for them.

* * *

Megatron surveyed the production with satisfaction. The area was rich in energy and it was showing in the growing number of energon cubes being loaded into Astrotrain and Blast Off, yet he still felt as if something was missing.

Megatron's satisfaction wouldn't be complete until the Autobots arrived. A dark look crossed Megatron's face as he smiled. His revenge would not only raiding the human's oil, but also to see the look on Prime's face when he mass-executed the humans right in front of him. He promised Prime he would pay, and pay he would.

**((Attention Megatron.))** Soundwave's called over the channel.

**((What is it Soundwave?))**

**((Reported Autobot siting. Estimated time of arrival: 5.5 breems))**

**((Good... )) **Megatron smiled. **((Order the others to finishing loading Astrotrain and Blast Off and have them return back to headquarters. Order the Coneheads to provide them cover and call everyone else regroup... we must be near the humans when Prime arrives.))**

**((As you command.)) **Soundwave cut the communication.

Megatron glanced back at the fleshling hostages and grinned, his optics flashing as he approached.

* * *

The question that had been plaguing Optimus Prime's processor had finally been answered much to his discomfort; he finally saw what Megatron had been cooking up in his processor and how he was going to return the favor to him. The only question that Prime couldn't answer was exactly what_ favor_ Megatron was returning.

Optimus knew that none of his soldiers would have disobeyed his orders and ventured into the Nemesis alone, and after a meeting he confirmed that none of them had. Megatron was mistaken, but as he stopped in his tracks, his soldiers behind him, he saw that Megatron clearly did not think he was.

The humans looked to Optimus and the Autobots as Megatron's fusion cannon covered them in a purplish light—preparing to exterminate the humans in front of the Autobots.

"Ah Optimus Prime, I'm pleased that you could finally join us!" Megatron sarcastically greeted with an evil smile. "You're just in time to watch me decrease the insect population!"

"Let them go Megatron!" Optimus Prime ordered, his rifle raised at the silver mech. "They have nothing to do with our conflict."

"Oh but they do!" Megatron called back, his face falling into the most frightening of malevolent glares. "Now these humans will pay for your spy..."

Megatron's fusion cannon powered up and the humans tensed with horror; waiting to see if life really did flash before your eyes.

A shot was fired and Megatron was thrown backwards, his fusion cannon, intending to massacre all the humans, only managed to eliminate the unlucky group of oil workers in the upper-right corner of cube; creating a bloody door for the other humans to escape out of.

Megatron landed on his back, his massive form shaking the ground. Megatron glared at Optimus, his rifle smoking softly. Both leaders were enraged and they did the only thing that made sense...

"Decepticons— RIP THEM APART!"

"Autobots— ATTACK!"

Without the slightest hesitation on either sides, the titans clashed; using both their guns and fists as weapons.

"Jazz, Ratchet, Bumblebee! Get the oil workers out of here!" ordered Optimus Prime before he found himself in hand-to-hand combat with Megatron.

Optimus swung a powerful right hook, hitting Megatron square in the jaw and causing the silver mech to stumble back towards the faded green facilities. Megatron swung his arm back and brought it forward, managing to hit Optimus Prime in the abdomen.

Optimus leaned forward and hit Megatron across the face, knocking him backwards.

Megatron turned on his heels to regain balance and fired his fusion cannon. Prime ducked and fired his own weapon, both missing. Megatron fired again and missed his target... but his shot still hit with a disastrous result.

The Cons and Bots turned to see the oil drill suddenly become unstable. The large machinery thundered as the natural geographic pressure of the well was finally able to release it's power and sent tremors through the ground; continuing to shake with more and more violence. The mechanical volcano finally exploded, showering black lava on the swampy flatland and it's visiting residents and natives.

Vanity on both sides took precedence momentarily over the battle.

"My paint job!" exclaimed Sunstreaker, his face twisting in rage as oil covered him. He threw a punch, taking his rage on the closest thing next to him—Swindle. Both sides seemed to follow suit and gladly went back to fighting.

The oil raining down didn't stop Megatron, while Optimus was distracted he placed a sound backhand against Optimus's face. Optimus crashed to the slippery asphalt hard. He regained himself and stood to re-engage Megatron, his blue feet slipping slightly. Optimus charged forward and tackled Megatron around the midsection, sending him to the ground. Optimus placed a square fist into Megatron's face, making the ex-gladiator groan slightly.

Megatron snarled and brought his foot up and planted it into Optimus's chassis, making the glass windows of his alt mode crack.

Megatron's attention was drawn away as he watched the red Lambo Twin crash Skywarp into one of the still-water lakes that dotted the scenary, a result of his infamous Jet-Judo technique. He noticed with disdain that his other troops were losing. The Autobots would win the battle, but oddly enough, in a strange sort of way, Megatron still managed to accomplish his goal.

Megatron turned back to Optimus who was also taking the time to look at the destroyed tundra with despair.

"You could have avoided this Prime... if you just admitted that you sent your spy into my base. The deaths of those humans are on your hands." Megatron seethed, a glint of brief satisfaction in his optics.

Optimus looked to his black oil-soaked enemy. "I told you before Megatron, I did not authorize any infiltration of your base! Your processor is deluded."

Megatron narrowed his optics in rage. "You still dare to lie to my face!" Megatron raised his fusion cannon and fired. Optimus ducked out of the way, Megatron's shot hitting one of the ponds and causing the water to geyser behind Optimus.

Megatron turned on his anti-gravity and called to the Decepticons to retreat.

With nothing further to gain, they left the Autobots behind to clean up their mess and confusion still eating away at their sparks.

* * *

Though they returned with energon cubes, morale was still as low as they left.

The doors of the elevator opened, revealing a batch of disgruntled, angry and oil-stained Decepticons with new Autobot-inflicted dents covering their body. Megatron was the first to leave the elevator, followed by Soundwave, Thundercracker, and the Combaticons minus Blast Off.

The lights began to flicker above their helms. Once, twice and then ceased.

Megatron stopped and so did his troops who sensed their leader's foul temper. Megatron turned to his Communications Officer with a displeased look. "Soundwave, I thought you said these lights were no longer a problem!"

Scavenger and Long Haul appeared from around the corner, giving their leader befuddled looks as they approached; trying to identify what exactly he was covered in...

Megatron's attention fixed on the two Constructicons, an obsidian finger pointed up at the lights as his optics narrowed at them: "When I order something fixed I want it fixed!"

The Constructicons stiffened slightly, unprepared for their leader's sudden harsh words. They followed Megatron's finger and looked up at the lights, finally understanding.

"But sir... we did fix the lights," Long Haul replied.

"Apparently you did not!" roared the silver mech. "Thoroughly repair these malfunctions or I'll thoroughly blast you both until you are nothing but molecules!"

Long Haul and Scavenger mumbled their _'yes-sirs'_ and set to work as Megatron passed. Soundwave passed by both mechs and felt their glares at the back of his helm; anger directed at him. He could also feel the Combaticons anger upon him, as if they were blaming Megatron's foul-temper and the dark atmosphere in the base on him. Though he could also sense that there was one in the hall that didn't have the same mutual feelings as the other angered mechs…

Thundercracker approached from the group, guided by an emotion he couldn't recognize. He wasn't sure if it was comradeship or pity, neither felt right when it was toward the blue, emotionless Communications Officer. However, ever since the event in the Common Room and Ravage had told them it was a ghost, the other Cons had used Soundwave as their scapegoat for why everything in the base had escalated as it did. If Soundwave had known all this time, why did he fail to tell Megatron— even now after the attack on all of them?

"Soundwave," called Thundercracker, pacing himself into a small jog to catch up.

Thundercracker rounded the corner and caught up with Soundwave, who was waiting for the Seeker; his head turned over his shoulder. Thundercracker hesitated, unsure how to begin. Soundwave was always the hardest one to talk to.

"Is it true?" Thundercracker questioned, "That there is a... _ghost _in here?"

Soundwave turned to face the blue Seeker, signaling his willingness to have a conversation, "Affirmative."

Thundercracker's optics widened minutely before shrinking into a pondering stare. Thundercracker looked Soundwave in the visor and said: "Then you should tell Megatron. It's only going to get worse if you don't."

Thundercracker waited for a response. He always hated the way Soundwave covered his face, it was nearly impossible to tell what exactly he was thinking and the only thing it succeded in was making the one talking to him awkward.

_Tell Megatron... it's will only get worse..._

The Seeker did have a point.

Perhaps now was the time; if the entity wanted to reveal himself to Megatron he would have done so. Soundwave had thought it would have been more than pleased to reveal itself to the Decepticon Commander as a demonstration of it's power, but now he was beginning to see what the entity was truly doing.

It was _choosing_ not to show itself to Megatron.

Megatron would never allow Soundwave to waste his time on something he didn't believe in, and therefore allowing the ghost to create more havoc to destroy them. The ghost would never leave unless Megatron was informed of it. He could also sense a change in his leader, Megatron wasn't as upset until he arrived at the base. It seemed the atmosphere was starting to effect him as well, but even that wouldn't be enough to persuade him. Soundwave would have to take a different tactic...

He was going to have to force the ghost to show itself to Megatron. A plan had already started it's process of forming as he turned to leave.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Thundercracker asked, pulling the navy blue mech from his thoughts. "I have seen things too and I can back up your claim."

"Negative," Soundwave answered.

Before Thundercracker could get in another word, he watched as Soundwave was about to turn the corner until he stopped. "What is it?" questioned Thundercracker. His optics scanning the hall.

He didn't answer, his attention on the presence he faintly felt. It felt similar to the entity but it didn't have the same malicious aura. He turned over his shoulder plates but found nothing.

After a moment the presence left and so did Soundwave. He continued to walk, trying to decipher wither it was the dark entity haunting the Nemesis or just his imagination.

Thundercracker also departed, all the while still searching for whatever had made the Communications Officer stop in his tracks.

* * *

Thundercracker soon joined the others in the Cleaning Room. As he entered he noticed how quiet they appeared to be as they waited for their turn through the only functional 'Deep Cleaner' (the others strangely inoperable). Thundercracker joined Skywarp at the back of the line. As Skywarp looked back to greet his fellow Seeker, he noticed the look on his face was an expression of deep concentration. "Whatcha thinkin' about?" questioned the teleporter.

Thundercracker looked up, pulled from his thoughts. "Nothing just"— Thundercracker sighed irritably, shaking his head— "I don't know Warp. I felt more comfortable outside the base. It feels like we are being watched _all_ the time."

Thundercracker studied Skywarp's reaction, expecting him to laugh or shrug.

He didn't. As Skywarp looked at him, the corner of his mouth tugging slightly, Thundercracker could tell that Skywarp felt the same way.

Thrust, who was in front of the two Seekers, turned to look over his shoulder plates, but found himself unable to blast a cutting remark at them. Despite his slight rejection to the paranormal explanation, he couldn't help but feel the same way.

In fact most of the Decepticons felt the same way. Ever since they returned to the base they felt less than content. They couldn't recall a time when they were less than enthusiastic about returning to their headquarters. Now that they had a taste of freedom away from the anxiety of ghost's attention on them, it was simply dreadful being in the base... not knowing what was going to happen next.

Starscream entered the Cleaning Room with a clear distasteful disposition. Also covered in oil that stained his form and ruining his always _perfect and glorious_ paintjob. He marched over to the far left side of the room, passing by the large water pool in the center, the regular shower stalls and cut to the front of the Deep Cleaner line and shoved Swindle out of the way.

"Hey!" Swindle cried as Vortex caught him under his arms and lifted him back up. "I was next, Starscream!"

"And you will be after _I_ am finished!" Starscream returned, his back to the doors of the Deep Cleaner.

"What gives you the right to cut in front of us!" Brawl demanded, raising a fist in the Seeker's direction as he stepped forward; his left foot in his place in the line.

"Only the fact that I am your _SUPERIOR_ officer Combaticon," retorted Starscream, a smirk of authority upon his faceplates.

The other Cons in the line began to grow angry, and as always the voice of reason sounded first to calm the chaos-eager mechs.

"Just get in the back Starscream and wait, stop being an aft," Thundercracker called, his voice as respectful as he could be.

"I do NOT possess the rank that forces me to wait on anyone!"

Starscream's blue hand landed on the panel to the left, opening the doors to the Deep Cleaner and activating the conveyor-belt. Starscream placed his blue thruster feet on the sides, remaining behind to get his last words in.

Whatever they were, the Cons didn't hear them. Instead their attention was on the ghostly apparition visible only because of the steam radiating from the hot water of the spray units. It smirked once and then disappeared within the cloud of steam.

Starscream smiled smugly, finished with the last of speech of why he was predestined for glory unlike the others.

Starscream was only slightly surprised that they remained silent... although he had to say that the fear stricken looks on their face-plates tickled his ego. Starscream smiled widely and then prepared to step on the conveyor-belt—but was halted by his wing-mate.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you Screamer," Skywarp called, a rare look of alarm on his face for his annoying wing-mate.

"Do _NOT_ tell me what to do Skywarp," warned the Supreme Air Commander with narrowed optics. He scanned the crowd with a dangerous but egotistical expression, "Now then... does anyone else have any objections about me going first?"

Silence... and then Swindle finally spoke for them, remembering that he owed payback. "No... ghost—I mean _go_ right ahead Starscream."

Starscream narrowed his optics minutely but ultimately ignored the Combaticon. With nobody daring to add another word, Starscream nodded with satisfaction and dropped his feet to the conveyor belt and allowed it to carry him forward into the Deep Cleaner, the doors shutting behind him.

About now, almost everyone had heard the theory of the ghost and though there was some speculation about how plausible it was, the Cons now couldn't help but wait in anticipation for the cowardly high-pitched scream that would signal Starscream finally becoming aware of the ghost rumor.

"Do you think that was a good idea to let Starscream go in with that thing in there?" Thundercracker questioned.

Swindle and the others turned to Thundercracker, expressions that hinted to an answer of_ 'not really, but what're you gonna do about it now?'_

The Cons remained silent, waiting. They had no doubt that the entity would reveal itself to Starscream; it had to all of them in one way or another after all.

Much to their astonishment—and slight frustration—Starscream emerged from the Deep Cleaner in pristine condition; his form washed and dried. He descended from the conveyor-belt to greet their baffled expressions. _Why didn't he attack him?_

Starscream suddenly narrowed his optics, displeased and confused with the looks he was receiving from the mechs. "Why are you all staring at me like that? You all look as if I you have seen a ghost."

The group exchanged wary and brief glances with the one next to them. _He just had to use that expression..._

Starscream, who received no answer, scoffed and headed towards the door. As Starscream closed the doors behind him, the doors of the Deep Cleaner suddenly opened. They stared in frightened bewilderment as the conveyor belt whirred to life and steam rose, waiting for another to pass through...

The Decepticons looked at the Deep Cleaner with no intention of stepping forth. Instead, they all turned and went to the stalls. Willing to settle with a poorer wash replacement than a thorough clean and risk the possibility of being attacked.

Feeling the thing watching them all, they hurried. As soon as they had most of the oil washed off they got the slag out of there.

* * *

Megatron watched the evidence Soundwave showed him with very little interest. As Megatron shook his head slightly, his arms crossed over his chest while he stared at the vid screen of his personal quarters, the only thing he felt was disappointment. He turned over his shoulder plates and stared at Soundwave with a frown.

Soundwave... out of all of the delusional and dysfunctional soldiers under his command, it was Soundwave to present to him the most ludicrous explanation of all for what the 'Autobot' intruder was. He could never recall his most logical and loyal solider ever disappointing—and angering him—as much as he did now.

Megatron suddenly slammed a hand down on his keyboard, causing to screen to pause on the image of the black figure in Miscellaneous Hall. After a long pause, giving the angered Decepticon leader time to fume out some of his rage and cool his overheating circuitry, he spoke to his Third-in-Command.

"I must say Soundwave," Megatron began, his vocals low with displeasure. "Your new found sense of humor does NOT make me laugh."

Stern optics locked on Soundwave. "Of all the micro-chipped morons I have under my command," Megatron began, shaking his disapprovingly at Soundwave. "Why did _you _have to fall to their level as well?"

Soundwave straightened his posture slightly, inside feeling the smallest twinge of embarrassment—but only a small one.

At least Megatron was aware of the theory now which was Soundwave's main objective for visiting his leader's quarters; and he accomplished that. He never expected Megatron to believe him— not yet anyway. Still, it never hurt to regain some dignity.

"Many other report similar sittings around the Nemesis," Soundwave explained. "Astrotrain, Reflector and Blitzwing have taken photographic evidence of the same intruder captured on the security cameras."

Megatron tilted his head in an extremely annoyed manner, his optics narrowing in resent that Soundwave was still trying to convince him.

"Others also claim sitting of the ghost during the _'break-in'_ last cycle-"

"ENOUGH!"

Soundwave ceased, sensing the last of his commander's patience vanishing. Soundwave watched as Megatron tried to regain control of his anger, his black fists closing and opening as if eagerly wanting to strangle something as the most cross of looks grew on his face.

He threw a black hand through the air, "Get out!" Megatron ordered.

Soundwave turned to comply, heading towards the door and exited.

Although he was bit discouraged by Megatron's total rejection and his angered reaction, Soundwave knew his lader's emotions too well to really be upset. He knew it was ill-wise to present such a explanation to Megatron when he was clearly not in the mood, but Soundwave felt a little relaxed now that he had finally shown him, even though he was far from solving the problem.

It felt good to get one step out of the way, even though there were still many more to go. One of them was trying to find a way to have the ghost present itself to Megatron and for that he needed Frenzy...

His creation rounded the corner and approached him. _"I have located Frenzy,"_ Ravage informed Soundwave, his telepathic words solemn.

Soundwave followed; trying to figure out what to say to get step two out accomplished.

* * *

While Astrotrain was being treated for damage to his wings, Blast Off was left behind in the Energon Storage Room to organize and count the new inventory. He didn't mind, solitude was his most trusted and visited friend.

Though as he counted the cubes, he felt as if there was another _friend_ in the room with him.

His steps were silent and measured as he approached the circuit breaker box, his audios acute for any repetition of the sounds he had been hearing earlier but ceased when he entered the hall of energon cubes.

Blast Off didn't really believe the rumor that had been spreading throughout the base; he just couldn't see how a ghost could have gotten aboard the Nemesis and why. It seemed rather absurd and illogical. However there was a side of him that leaned towards the impossible reason, especially being present during that fiasco with Vortex being pulled down the hall. It was the only reason he approached with hesitance.

He reached the large opening to find something he didn't expect but gave him relaxation to see it was a 'friendly' face.

Frenzy sat on an energon cube, staring at the wall of cubes in front of him.

"What are you doing in here Frenzy?" questioned the Combaticon. "You are not possibly thinking about helping yourself to any energon are you?"

Frenzy kept his back to Blast Off, refusing to give him an answer. "I am _talking _to you Frenzy. You best leave before I report you."

Frenzy still gave no answer. Before Blast Off could demand Frenzy's attention again, the sound of footsteps sounded behind Blast Off, making him whirl around and draw his weapon. He aimed it at nothing.

"_You _best leave Blast Off," called a voice behind him. Blast Off turned to see Frenzy finally looking at him, his red visor dull more than usual. "Before he makes ya leave. He doesn't like anyone in here."

Blast Off tilted his head to the side in confusion. "He? Who's '_he'_?"

Before he knew it Blast Off was thrown on his back, his weapon falling uselessly from his hand as a pressure clamped down on his leg. Slowly, but frighteningly, it dragged him out of the Energon Storage Room, all the while Blast Off reached out and tried to grab on to anything. His hands slipped across the surface of the energon cubes and screeched across the floor as he clawed at it. The doors to the room opened and he was dumped out like garbage. In no need of a hint or any other clue of _'he'_ was, Blast Off retreated away from the room and went to the elevator.

Frenzy froze, dizziness smothering him.

Soundwave was coming.

An ornery smile grew on Frenzy's face...

* * *

The elevator doors opened and Soundwave and Ravage greeted the Combaticon on the other side. Blast Off pushed passed Soundwave and activated the elevator, allowing Soundwave and his cassette to deal with one of their own.

Ravage and Soundwave pushed Blast Off's behavior aside and headed towards their reason for coming down to the storage levels.

_"I found Frenzy in the Energon Storage Room before you all got back,"_ Ravage communicated to Soundwave. _"He won't acknowledge me. The entire time I was with him he just stared at the energon cubes. Rumble also informed me before you left to the oil field that Frenzy made a death threat against him as well."_

Soundwave said nothing as they continued to the Energon Storage Room, the atmosphere growing heavier as they approached. The mood of the room promised hostility; the same feeling of entering enemy territory.

Light footsteps alerted them of someone coming. Soundwave and Ravage halted and waited.

Frenzy approached them from the hall of energon cubes, stalking towards them with an uncharacteristic swagger. He walked disturbingly content, a smile darkening his features and destroying any trace of what was left of the cassette they knew.

This wasn't Frenzy.

This was the entity.

His dull red visor turned to Soundwave and he flashed him a catty smile and spoke to them in a sing-songy voice:"There was once a telepath from space/ Who always covered his face/ When all turned to him/ Asking to save them/ He revealed he was no ace..."

Ravage growled menacingly at the offensive limerick directed at Soundwave; nobody called his master a coward.

'Frenzy' fixed on Ravage, a humored smile on his faceplates. "You always react in such temperamental fashion, kitty. I am going to love breaking your bravado."

_"Why not truly reveal yourself now and see if I don't break yours first?" _Ravage growled malignantly.

"In due time kitty in due time…"

"You will not be present in the base long enough," shot Soundwave.

The dark visor fixed itself back to Soundwave, amused beyond all comparison. "I so humbly agree. It will not take long for me to sweep through all of you."

"Yet you still continue to linger here," replied Soundwave.

The entity puppeteered Frenzy to flash Soundwave a bedeviled smile. "I take pleasure in the sight of watching all of you tremble in my presence."

"Correction: Some," said Soundwave. "You still refuse to show yourself to the one that matters most."

The dark visor studied Soundwave, a grin enlarging as he discovered what he was talking about. "You refer to your leader? You would be satisfied if I revealed myself to him, wouldn't you? That way you can begin your feeble attempts to get rid of me?"

Frenzy laughed manically, the faintest trace of the entity's baritone voice overlapping his creation's own. "If you truly loved your little child you would have acted despite the authoritarian dangers he possess. You are a coward Soundwave and his inevitable death will be on your blue hands..."

"Assumption of cowardice: hypocritical," Soundwave returned smoothly back.

The grin disappeared instantly; replacing it was with a poisonous scowl. "Oh? _Do_ relate."

"Attacking beings that have no knowledge of your kind, choosing to possess a victim weaker emotionally and physically, terrorizing the Decepticons only when you are under the cover of darkness. All the characteristics of cowardice."

Frenzy's head suddenly dipped low, his visor set dangerously on the blue mech as if ready to kill. His fists clench, his lip components trembling with anger as the entity made the cubed walls shake slightly.

Soundwave secretly smiled under his face-mask. _So... the ghost did have a weakness. __Pride._

The entity/Frenzy smiled ill-temperedly and replied in a menacing whisper, using his own deep and intimidating voice. "After I kill your children, I am coming for you."

"Threat: All talk... no shock."

"I am nothing but shock!" he roared. An energon cube flew from the wall and came inches from Soundwave's helm, but even then he refused to react to the entity.

Frenzy bared his dental plates at Soundwave. "You think you can rid your base of me?"— He titled his head up in a challenging manner—"Then try! I _**DARE**_ you telepath!"

Frenzy's optics went offline and he collapsed forward to the floor like a rag doll— unconscious. Ravage took a half-step forward but stopped, wary it might be a trick. Soundwave kneeled down without hesitance and picked up Frenzy; the sensitive sensors in his fingers unable to detect the entity's energy. It had left his cassette— for now.

Ravage walked with Soundwave out of the Energon Storage Room, an uncomfortable feeling in his spark. Ravage turned to Soundwave, in need of clarification.

_"Do you think it was wise to provoke it?"_

_"Risk has risen, but it is the only way we could precede." _Soundwave honestly replied.

Ravage had known of Megatron's denial before they had arrived at the Energon Storage Room, and how Soundwave could not progress in aiding Frenzy until he was given permission to devout his time to only to getting rid of the ghost. As Ravage replayed what just happened, he began to understand Soundwave's intention was for provoking it.

_"You wanted to anger it so it would attack Megatron,"_ Ravage understood, although he wasn't sure he agreed to this tactic. _"Do you think it was a good idea to send it after Megatron?"_

_"Megatron can handle any physical attack," _Soundwave answered. _"Expected reaction from Megatron: excite his fear."_

* * *

Megatron wasn't surprised to find the Cleaning Room deserted; after all he had been stalled by Soundwave. Megatron still felt anger towards his most trusted of soldiers. Whatever possessed Soundwave to offer an explanation so insulting to his intelligence was beyond understanding. With narrowed optics he tried his best to brush it away and proceeded to the Deep Cleaning unit.

Even in the Cleaning Room his fusion cannon remained attached to him, but it did need to come off in the Deep Cleaner. He detached the cannon from his arm and placed it on a nearby polishing table, willing to leave it behind as he ordered the doors to the room to be locked (nobody could override his voice command). Walking over to the ramp that led to the conveyor belt he activated the panel and the Deep Cleaner whirred to life. After a moment of starting it's systems he stepped on to the belt and let it pull him forward in to the machine.

He heard the doors shut behind him before he was doused in orange cleaning fluid. The black stains on his silver form, dry from flying and too much time passing, already began to drip down to the floor. As the fluid hissed from the hoses on each side of him, he narrowed his optics.

He turned his head to the side softly. Over the hissing he thought he heard something. Ignoring it, he turned back and continued letting the machine washing him.

The lights flickered briefly before they shut off... the Deep Cleaner powering down completely. He sighed in annoyance and used voice command to get the machine to resume.

Nothing.

"I said _reactivate_!" called Megatron, louder than before.

Nothing.

With a clenched hand he turned around and marched for the door on the dead conveyor belt. He lifted his hand to activate the emergency open but they refused to comply.

In no mood for games, he lifted his foot and kicked the door down. They flew down the ramp and landed in a dented mess on the floor. He stepped out and quickly scanned the Cleaning Room, as if searching for an explanation to why he his wash was interrupted. When he could find none, he proceeded to the shower stalls.

He stepped into the purple room, empty stalls waiting for him to use. He choose the first one on his right and resumed cleaning.

Water ran down his form and into the cracks of his armor. Without the aid of the machine to do the work, Megatron used his black fingers to mix the water and cleaning fluid from the Deep Cleaner and rid himself of the black mess on his chassis and arms. He felt pleased to finally be rid of the black smear but not even something as recharging and pleasant as a wash could settle the Decepticon.

Oddly he felt uncomfortable and alert, as if he was back on the battle-field.

Megatron's head snapped up and he turned sharply over his shoulder plates at what he though was the sound of a voice whispering into his audio receptors. The water still beating down upon him, he looked to find no one in the stalls but himself. After a moment of searching and finding nobody, he turned back to what he was doing.

He bent over slightly to remove the oil from his legs.

A swift kick to his back pushed him forward. He braced his hands in front of him and caught the wall, preventing him from falling.

With a growl he turned to find the other mech in the stall with him.

Nothing.

Not even bothering with turning off the shower he stepped out of the stall to search, walking into the opening. He still found nothing. Not a single sign of disturbance in the room. Watery footprints were left behind as he moved forward continuing his search. He called out, using the name that always came to mind when he suspected something wrong.

"Starscream!"

Silence.

"Have you no better things to do than disturb me when I am in the Cleaning Room?" he questioned, his tone disgusted.

A metallic bang sounded behind him and he turned to see his fusion cannon rolling back and forth on the ground— pushed from the table he laid it on. With a slight pause at first he walked forward and picked up his fusion cannon. He lifted it up, about to place it on his arm when something caught his optic.

Three short white lines, perfectly parallel to each other, scratched the surface of his barrel. Megatron narrowed his optics in confusion and anger. Relying on a hunch, he trailed three of his fingers over the lines... they matched perfectly.

_Did someone scratch MY fusion cannon? How dare they!_

Megatron's fusion cannon attached to his arm and he whirled around to face the other occupant in the room with him.

"Show yourself! I _know _you are in here!"

Wish granted.

Megatron turned his head to the left and aimed his fusion cannon at the figure lingering behind the Deep Cleaner; a dark foot the only thing visible.

"So the Prime's Autobot spy finally reveals himself?" questioned Megatron with a malicious scowl. "You have captured my attention now come out Autobot!"

There was a silence, and then the mech's feet moved and he stepped out from behind the Deep Cleaner. Megatron's optics widened and then narrowed in rage at the familiar face.

"Prime! How did you get into my base?" Megatron roared with aversion.

There was no doubt in Megatron's processor that it was Optimus Prime, but after countless millennia of fighting he clearly noticed something definitely wrong with his enemy.

First the way he stood, he was slouching; his shoulders were dipped forward and his back was hunched. The second was that Megatron noticed that Prime was unarmed. Lastly... there was something in the Autobot's dim blue optics that unnerved Megatron. They were lifeless but remarkably vehemence.

"Why in the universe are you staring at me like that?" Megatron questioned, feeling annoyed by his uncharacteristic behavior.

Optimus Prime said and did nothing, which was slightly more disturbing.

A sound echoed by the pool and he turned to it.

The surface of the water splashed as if someone was playing with it; patting it just enough to break the water tension. He watched with confused fascination as it continued on every inch of the water's surface. He continued watching it, the sound of the patting water starting to annoy and anger him—what was causing it to do that?

A laugh echoed to his side and he turned back to Prime... his optics widened at the fearful sight he saw.

Optimus Prime was barely recognizable and Megatron couldn't wrap his processor of how he did it. His color had changed from red and blue to black and purple. His crimson optics took on a more sinister nature as they brightened at the Decepticon leader.

Optimus Prime laughed again, throwing his head back and releasing the most disturbing laugh Megatron had ever heard from come from him.

Before Megatron could fire to end this game, and possibly regain some sanity, his fusion cannon was painfully ripped from his arm and he was tossed by an unseen force towards the pool. His back hit the side painfully. Recovering quickly he rose to his feet...

Only to be flipped over on his chassis, his reflection lingering above the water's surface as his hands braced the edges. He prepared to push himself up, and attack the one that had pushed him when his optics caught sight of something.

Megatron had to reboot his optics to make sure he was truly seeing what was in front of him.

In front of him was a mech. He was tall—about as tall as a Seeker though his green and blue structure indicated he was an Autobot. He had blue optics and a pale face, shadowed underneath his black and square helm but the most alarming thing about him was not that half of his form was blown away, revealing sparking circuits and scorched and damaged metal, but that he could see right through the mech...

A powerful hand gripped the back of his helm and pushed down. Megatron's face hit the water and he struggled against the hand pushing him down as if trying to drown him. The hand moved to grip the back of his neck and Megatron used the split second to his advantage.

He braced his hands to the sides and with all of his might and pushed up. His head lifted out of the water and he planted his feet against the floor, pushing off and stumbling backwards and into the table he fusion cannon once lay on.

He hit the ground and soon recovered, just in time to see 'Optimus Prime' laugh at him and say. "Look at your face... just as pathetic and horrified as the soldiers in your joke of an army."

"What!" Megatron cried, his optics slanting in anger. How dare he talk to him like that!

"You should have listened to your telepath," he replied, his red optics brightening.

Megatron rose to his feet, ready to fight as Prime approached him. Megatron threw a fist at him. The only thing he felt was a cold spot of air as his fist traveled through the mech. The purple Optimus laughed at him.

After Prime finished Megatron asked. "What are you?"

Optimus Prime didn't reply and walked forward. The Decepticon tyrant tensed, expecting the mech to attack him; instead all he felt was a cold pressure coarse throughout his circuitry and his body and enter out through his back.

Megatron's optics widened. _Did the mech just pass through him? Like a..._

He turned to find himself alone in the Cleaning Room and then a voice whispered into his audio receptor, a different graveled voice...

_"Now do you believe in ghosts mighty Megatron?"_

Megatron snarled and swiped at the air, attempting to hit the one taunting him. His hand grazed nothing but the air.

He whirled around the room, his battle computer fully alert and ready for anything. But after several long moments nothing happened.

Megatron stood in the Cleaning Room for a good breem before he moved to retrieve his fusion cannon. As he moved to leave the Cleaning Room, he could feel someone staring at him, inches away from him and looking at him with humored animosity.

He walked out of the Cleaning Room as the doors slid open for him, his processor racing. He felt optics at his back and he turned to look over his shoulder...

The doors were open despite him ordering them closed and passing by the entrance a dark Transformer sized figure appeared, looked at him with yellow eyes and then retreated to the other side... the doors closing shortly afterwards.

Megatron stopped in his tracks, awestruck...

It was the same dark figure from Soundwave's evidence. An horrifying and illogical epiphany raced through Megatron's processor.

_Had Soundwave been telling the truth?_

There was only one way to find out...

* * *

Every Decepticon, even Motormaster who had been liberated from the brig for the meeting, gathered in the Control Room, waiting for Megatron to arrive. Chit-chat drifted over the room; the Decepticons trying to figure out the reason for Megatron's sudden and urgent meeting.

None of them could figure it out.

Rumble stood by Soundwave and Ravage's side, scratching his chin nervously. There was one Decepticon besides Megatron that wasn't accounted for...

Frenzy.

Soundwave decided to leave the mech to recharge. Rumble wasn't too fond of the idea but he couldn't argue with his creator. He just hoped his twin was okay.

Megatron soon entered the Control Room, a clearly displeased look upon his faceplates. The Cons immediately shut up when he entered.

"Decepticons," began Megatron as he paced the room, his arms crossed over his chest. Soundwave couldn't help but notice the three scratches on Megatron's fusion cannon. "I just had an interesting encounter with our... _intruder_. Anyone else care to share their own?"

Megatron's narrowed optics scanned them all, a sinking feeling invading all of their sparks as their leader looked at them. Glances drifted to Soundwave and the Communications Officer replied with the smallest of nods. He didn't need to say anything; they knew that he must have told Megatron.

They all looked at each other, wondering which one would be the first to tell their own ghost story...

* * *

**A/N:** I borrowed a line from the cartoon... ("All talk, no shock." from the episode _Auto-Bop;_ spoken by Soundwave) So... I don't own it. :(

Also I know that I made the oil drill exploding a little over the top, but you know in the G1 universe anything can happen. Just like Megatron thinks that building a Giant Purple Griffin of Doom was a good idea. :P

Hoped you all liked Megatron's encounter with 'Shattered Glass' Prime. It was a good opportunity for it and I couldn't resist. ^^

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter and see ya next time! :)


	12. Spectrophobia

**A/N:** I would like to once again say thank you for all the reviews, favs, alert subscriptions, etc. It all goes greatly appreciated. :)

* * *

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 12**

**"Spectrophobia"**

* * *

"A dog in desperation will leap over a wall..." Chinese Proverb

* * *

It didn't matter how loyal or how rarely one lied, the topic of ghosts would always be met with cynicism— especially when the victim was surrounded by a group of skeptic sharks, ready to tear down the story and belittle them without mercy.

However the roles were switched in the Decepticon Base. A large number of the army believed in the ghost, and only a minimal few were skeptical.

Dead End was an unwavering rock. Even though he may have experienced 'something' he did not connect it to be anything supernatural—though the last 'encounter' in the Common Room had stirred his curiosity.

He was still unable to figure out how the chair was thrown at him and was the voice he had been hearing inside his head an omen of insanity? Surely it must have been; he was a Stunticon after all.

Scrapper, Starscream and Onslaught were skeptics because they simplyhad never visited by the 'ghost' that haunted the Nemesis. Scrapper thought it to be nothing but paranoid superstition because the mech did things out of the ordinary.

Onslaught thought it was nothing more than a cute nickname to describe a gifted enemy that clearly possessed the powers of Autobots Hound and Mirage combined.

Starscream thought they were all just stupid. There was no such thing as ghosts—it was scientifically impossible—and he couldn't help but let the others know his opinions as each of the Cons told their experiences…

_"And exactly how are faulty lights supernatural? A mere disconnection could cause it which you would have discovered if you checked them properly. Perhaps you were too concerned about ghosts Hook that you didn't even bother."_

_"How am I not surprised that you would have an excuse and not just say that you were moronic enough to teleport yourself into a wall, Skywarp?"_

_"Perhaps you are not as strong a leader as we all thought you are, are you Mighty Megatron. Even I thought you were not afraid as something as childish as the dark...AARHH!" _That was the last comment he made while present at the meeting_. _

Despite his tendency to be loud, the believers ignored the Second in Command; their collected opinions were far more supported than his 'scientific' explanations—especially when the group of believers included Soundwave and Megatron.

Megatron, his arms crossed over his chassis and a fowl expression on his face, was repulsed at the amount of activity that had been happening under his nose for so long. Although he was extremely displeased that Soundwave had been the only one that came forward, he was also rational. He himself was having a hard time coming to terms that he actually believed in such supernatural nonsense, but after witnessing it firsthand, any denial of the ghost's presence would label him a hypocrite. Still… he was displeased that this being had gotten the best out of both himself and his army…

"I was just forcefully dragged out of the Energon Storage Room within this same cycle," Blast Off said, concluding his turn around the 'campfire'.

"I was also dragged out of the Energon Storage Room by an unseen force," Hook told them.

"It twisted my rotors and _then_ dragged me down the hall," Vortex reported, as if unenthusiastically trying to one-up Hook and Blast Off.

"It threw a chair at me," was all Thrust said.

"It's thrown everything in my closet at me and I have seen him harass Astrotrain," Blitzwing said, his arms crossed over his chest plates and a tedious look on his face.

"It pulled me under Wildrider's berth," Dragstrip lamented.

**((Frenzy and myself have also been attacked numerous times.)) **Ravage informed them all.

An atmosphere of boredom permiated around them. Most of them had told their experiences, and most of them seemed to be repeating themselves. Only one mech had refused a turn—but he would not go unheard…

"Hey Breakdown, didn't you get attacked?" asked Wildrider, his optics drifting to his comrade standing next to him.

Breakdown looked at his combiner teammate with trepidation. He hadn't told anyone his horrifying encounter and he hadn't planned to speak up during the meeting, in fact the only one who knew what happened was Soundwave who had to resort to telepathy.

Breakdown crossed his arms over his chest and shrunk against the wall, shaking his head lightly; an expression of despair on his face that read as an _'I don't want to talk about it'_.

Starscream laughed, the laugher half humored and half disdainful. "What's the matter Breakdown? Did the big bad scary ghost scare you so badly that you can't even tell anybody?"

Starscream's cynisicm and mocking laugh finally broke the Stunticon's resolve as he momentarily replaced his fear with anger. "You wouldn't be laughing if it tried to rip out your optics!"

Starscream's optics narrowed at Breakdown but he said nothing. Breakdown immediately shrunk back into his uncomfortable mood, embarrassed that he had blurted it out as he did. For a moment they didn't say anything; nobody could top a physical attack like that, especially when some of the mechs saw him in the Med Bay: hysterical, paranoid and violently defensive (all because he couldn't see).

Though Dead End didn't believe in the supernatural, he did believe that Breakdown was attacked by someone—he had seen the aftermath and he could sense that he was truly frightened.

Silence drifted over the room again until it was broken when Dead End placed a hand on Breakdown's shoulder plates. Breakdown violently shoved Dead End away from him and retreated away. "Don't touch me! Don't you EVER touch me Dead End!"

Breakdown clenched his fists, ready for another assault by his combiner teammate, but it never came. Dead End and the others just stared at him, unsure how to act.

Breakdown lowered his head, vented air hissing as it escaped from his mouth like a human sigh. Grudgingly he walked to the other side of the room, as far away from Dead End he could get, and shrunk to the back; hidden from view behind the Triple Changers and the Coneheads.

Starscream rolled his optics, signaling that his patience had just run out. He turned to his Commander. "If you don't mind _leader_, I would like to be dismissed from this meeting. I have no 'ghost story' to tell and I fear if I stay any longer in this room I might be infected with the stupidity that seems to of plagued this base."

"I agree Starscream… if you have nothing useful to say you should leave my presence at once. Perhaps that can be your new rule from now on," was Megatron departing remark for his Air Commander.

Starscrem scowled but said nothing. With a sharp turn he marched out of the Control Room without another word or negative fleeting glance.

Megatron turned to his remaining soldiers with a scrutinizing optics. "Anyone else care to leave?"

With wearied glances and after a long awkward silence Dead End finally shuffled to the door, followed closely by Scrapper and Onslaught.

Scrapper stopped before they reached the doors, turned and looked back at the others, astounded that only four Decepticons (Starscream, Dead End, Onslaught and himself) seemed to possess any rationality. _What was the army coming to?_

With nothing further, he left; the doors closing behind him, unknowingly leaving behind the most rational mechs in the entire base…

They knew what they had experienced was not normal but blaming the incidents on a ghost was actually the most plausible conclusion they all could reach— especially now that their own leader had been ferried to the same hell they were all in. It wouldn't be long until the last cool and collected four joined them...

Megatron turned to the only mech in the room that seemed to have a grasp on the situation. "What have you found out about this... _thing_ Soundwave?" even though they knew Megatron believed in the ghost, it was still damaging to his ego to say the word; they knew how he felt.

Optics fell on Soundwave, also wanting to hear his analysis.

"Ghost has unexplainable amount of strength," he began. The Cons shifted uncomfortably. They knew; they had experienced it's strength firsthand.

"Ghost also possesses telepathic abilities which it used against us during in our individual attacks."

Megatron nodded once, understanding. "I see… it dug into our minds and then projected what we would react to."

"Affirmative."

An uncomfortable shiver swept through the group at the realization that the ghost being telepathic actually made sense. Ghosts could pass through walls, what was to stop it from trespassing the walls of their processors? Apparently nothing, and that didn't help to ease the tension in the room.

"Have you in turn found anything in _it's_ mind?" Megatron questioned, referring to his own telepathic abilities.

"Negative," Soundwave answered. "Ghost moves too frequently to get a positive reading. Also has mental barriers that can be broken once ghost is located and subdued."

"What else?"

"Identity of ghost is unknown," Soundwave confessed. "Astrotrain claims to of seen ghost before but the energy signature of the ghost does not match one of a Transformers."

Astrotrain's head lifted slightly, narrowed optics fixing on the blue telepathic mech; he didn't like to be wrong and wrong he wasn't…

"How is his identity unknown?" Astrotrain demanded. "Everyone just said that my ghost was the mech that has been bothering everyone."

"Negative," Soundwave responded. "If you had an encounter previously, it would not of chosen to start as late in creating chaos. Secondly: Rumble and Frenzy have visited an infested location on Earth. While present Frenzy was telepathically attacked. Mind patterns extracted from both Breakdown and Frenzy are identical to the same being that attacked Frenzy. "

Astrotrain said nothing; it was hard trying to think of a rebuttal to that one…

"Wait a minute," Bonecrusher interrupted, "are you saying that Rumble and Frenzy—not Astrotrain— brought this thing here?"

Rumble shifted uncomfortably under the overbearing weight of the disdainful optics on him. "We didn't bring it here. Me and Frenz didn't even know there was ghosts on that island until they started comin' after us… It ain't our fault!"

"But that doesn't make any sense," Skywarp said, "then what is Astrotrain's ghost doing here?"

"Maybe Astrotrain's ghost has been sittin' back all this time—planning and finding our weaknesses," offered Swindle. "Besides a human ghost couldn't have been doing all of this to us. It's too weak for that."

"Maybe it's two ghosts," suggested Dirge.

A few Decepticons rolled their optics at the comment, others shifted at the thought. Human ghost or no human ghost, one ghost was better than two.

"No… Soundwave is right," said Thundercracker, shaking his head. "If it was Astrotrain's ghost it _would_ have started this a long time ago."

"So it _is_ the runts fault," said an angered Motormaster. The Stunticon leader turned to the Triple Changer. "You're lucky Choo Choo—the midget saved you a pounding."

"I would love to see you try dirt-kisser," Astrotrain scoffed, his fists ready to return any punches the Stunticon could dish out.

"You may get to track-licker," threatened Motormaster, his purple optics glinting at the tall Triple Changer.

The two Cons stepped forward... and so did another, halting the two from beating each other senseless.

"Silence both of you!" roared Megatron. The Decepticons quieted down, resuming their soldier-like dispositions. Seeing he had full cooperation, he turned back to Soundwave. "Does the species of this ghost—or _ghosts— _matter Soundwave?"

"Unknown," Soundwave responded honestly, "Cannot locate any information about them in any Cybertronian archive; still searching. Human tactics; unreliable."

"Then continue searching Soundwave," Megatron said. "We cannot be the first to have this problem. There must be some sort of documentation of a ghost encounter and therefore some way to defeat it. I don't care if we have to invade the Autobot's headquarters to find this information on their ship's computer— find a way!"

"As you command Megatron," Soundwave replied, welcoming the order; he could now devout his time to getting rid of the entity and saving his creation.

"What if the species does matter?" questioned Scavenger. "I mean… what if getting rid of Astrotain's ghost is harder than getting rid of a human ghost or vice versa? Humans and us are different in terminating… what if ghosts are like that too?"

"It's no fleshbag ghost," Motormaster said, crossing his arms over his chassis. "Whatever got into my mind was no puny fleshie. Besides fleshies don't have souls."

Others couldn't help but nod along with the Stunticon.

"No fleshie could have done what it did to me," Breakdown somberly said, his head hanging in humiliation.

"Yeah, I agree," Vortex piped. "No way could a fleshie have dragged any of us down a hall."

"Who even brought up that it might be a fleshie ghost?" questioned Thrust who had seemed to of just drifted back into the conversation after a moment of staring into space. "That's about the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"Oh yeah!" cried Rumble. "Then how come Frenzy says he's been seeing human ghost botherin' him? And how come it has the same mind stuff like the ghost that attacked Frenz' before? Huh? Answer me tha' Cone-nerd."

The Cons looked at each other, scoffing slightly at the ghost being a fleshie. All of them seeming to forget that it was Soundwave who had brought it up.

"I haven't seen any fleshie ghosts running around," shrugged Skywarp. "It's always been that same one. The guy with half of his body missin'."

Others who have experiences with Oversight nodded in agreement; it was always him. Only Hook, Megatron, Ravage, Soundwave, Rumble, Dirge and Breakdown disagreed—they had seen another form that didn't appear as Oversight; it was either a black humanoid shadow figure or a perverted mutation of another Transformer they knew (Optimus Prime and Dead End).

Thundercracker seemed to also have his doubts. Whatever attacked them, it didn't feel like a fleshie or a Transformer. It seemed too malicious to be either or maybe that was just his opinion... maybe it was just Astrotrain's ghost. He also doubted a human ghost had the capabilities to attack them like it did.

Astrotrain although dead set on it being his ghost, started to doubt himself. A lot of good points were brought up in the meeting that made him question his own judgment. What had taken him so long to show itself? It had been ages since he last visited the bar, it would have started coming after them long ago if it had followed him back.

The other thing was a little less credible, but the more he encountered Oversight, the more a feeling in his spark grew. He didn't know what it was but there had always seemed to be something off about Oversight. If Oversight wanted him out of that house long ago, why would he follow Astrotrain? And why was it attacking the others? He would think his vendetta would be with him and him alone...

What _if_ it wasn't his ghost? What if it was the Cassette's ghost instead? There was only way to be sure.

A test. However... knowing the ghost was probably listening, he would have to disguise his intent.

"Sir, if I may speak?" Astrotrain stepped forward.

Megatron looked at the Triple Changer as if he was about to deny his request, but after a moment he nodded his head. "Speak."

"I know of another mech who has had experience with this same ghost. He was the owner of the bar this ghost used to haunt. I request to leave to Cybertron to find him and see if he knows any information about the ghost."

Megatron stared at Astrotrain with a scrutinizing expression, his optics narrowed at him and for a moment he thought he would shot his cannon at him. "Granted," Megatron said, seeing a possible usefulness in the endeavor. "Locate him and interrogate him. Have others accompany you."

"I will accompany Astrotrain," Blitzwing said, stepping forward.

"As will we," Reflector also stepped forward.

"Fine. Go," Megatron replied with a tacit tone.

With nothing to add, the three mechs saluted and left. Exiting the room to refuel and prepare for the trip.

The others seemed to relax at their departure. However minimal or pointless it may turn out to be, it was finally nice to see that they were finally doing something.

Seemingly bored with the silence, Megatron gazed at his other soldiers. "Does anyone else care to share any intelligible ideas?"

Silence and then...

"What about the fleshies?" quipped Rumble. Optics fixed on him, making him feel shorter under their expressions of doubt and disgust.

"I mean… only if it does turn out to be a fleshie ghost. Fleshie's gotta lot of ghosts runnin' around. When me and Frenz were on that island there were tons of 'em botherin' us. You could feel 'em watchin' ya wherever ya went. Well… if fleshies can get rid of a ghost botherin' them, then… maybe a fleshie can get rid of the one here too."

The Cons stared in silence, stunned by the ridiculous suggestion. Decepticons... asking aid from a _human_?

"He said _intelligible_, not stupid, runt," shot Motormaster.

Rumble looked at their faces and immediately wanted to sink into the floor until he disappeared. The look on their faceplates reading that they would rather be picked off one by one than resort to any human tactics. Perhaps he should have just kept his idea to himself…

Megatron's stern optics stared down at the cassette. "Whatever is plaguing our base will be dealt with without the aid of an inferior race."

Rumble's shoulders slumped, discouraged. Maybe he shouldn't have sent that message...

"Until this situation is dealt with, I am imposing a curfew and since it seems to enjoy attacking us in the dark and when we are alone, all Decepticons will share quarters with another. How you chose your roommates is no concern of mine. You have the end of the cycle to do so."

Soft groans emanated from the Decepticons at the thought of having to bunk up for who knows how long. Though they had the same badge, they also liked whatever time they could take away from one another.

Megatron ignored them, not caring about their personal space being invaded—after all they would think they would be used to it by now.

"Until we discover how to rid ourselves of this thing I want no Decepticon to give it pleasure and cower in its presence. You are soldiers, _act_ as such."

The Decepticons eyed one another in silence, befuddled and troubled expressions on their face plates as if they were telepathically asking each other the same question…

How the slag do you do that?

* * *

After the meeting Rumble, Soundwave and Ravage walked back to their own quarters. Though they were pleased that this affair had been discussed, they still knew nothing about how to defeat it. It was a puzzle not only for the other mechs, but for the telepath as well...

How do you kill a ghost and how long would it take to find the answer? Frenzy was spiraling fast, it wouldn't be long now until the entity considered his worth expired... and then come after another one of his cassettes.

Rumble had become a damaged optimist. There was a way—there had to be a way—especially when they knew that it was a fleshie ghost. From what he read on the fleshie's internet, this wasn't the first time to happen to fleshies and they had ways of getting rid of them.

If you wanted to get rid of a human ghost you had to use human tactics! However, it felt he was the only one that could see that.

When Rumble had shown Soundwave his research on fleshie ghosts, though he took it into consideration as a last resort he seemed to brush it aside as nothing more than cultural hodge podge and couldn't see it be used as a realistic weapon.

Rumble had to agree with Soundwave—he didn't believe that bunch of magic words could hurt a ghost, especially one of this caliber.

Attention was suddenly diverted to Ravage when a threating growl escaped his vocalizer, angry enough to send shivers through any Autobots circuitry. Soundwave could also feel the presence…

Frenzy was no longer asleep.

Seeing Soundwave tense slightly was enough to send alarms through Rumble's frame. Frenzy had arrived unconscious at their quarters again and last time he woke up it was not a pleasant encounter.

_How much of Frenzy was lost this time?_

Three loud bangs sounded on the other side of their quarter doors, but the mechs didn't have to call out to know who it was.

Ravage, who was the only one that dared to approach the door, suddenly felt a cold feeling run down his spinal seem. Something was wrong, the entity wasn't outside the room like he had suspected… he was right in front of him.

A wave of stupidity washed over him. It knew he would be the first to step forward…

Ravage turned but felt something clamp onto his back paws and pull him towards the door. His claws sank into the floor, leaving behind deep scratches as it pulled him. Despite Ravage's attempt, he felt the entity grab him from behind the neck and push his head to the floor—subduing him. Ravage clawed and growled, trying to break free.

Frenzy stalked out of the room, the uncomfortable aura already growing and pressing on their shoulder plates with just his presence alone. Frenzy's visor gazed dully down upon the cyber-cat at his side. Ravage tried to escape, feeling threatened… but it did little good.

Frenzy's hand shot down and clamped painfully down on Ravage's neck, his fingers digging under his panels and clutching a few sensitive wires. Frenzy leaned down and said with a silky but menacing tone: "Didn't I say that if you followed me I would fucking kill you?" Frenzy bit his bottom lip, suppressing a smile.

An angered growl was Ravage's response as Frenzy mercilessly tugged a couple of wires, earning a pained yowl from the cat— Frenzy smiled darkly...

But before Frenzy could carry out his promise, a low powered shot hit him in his chassis; sending the cassette backwards and forcing him to release his hold on Ravage.

It was not a family affair... there were bystanders.

Skywarp and Thundercracker stood in shock at the end of the hall. NEVER had they seen Soundwave shoot one of his own creations and for the stoic mech to do that, they knew that something was definitely wrong (as if the scene wasn't enough to convince them that Frenzy was acting out-of-the-ordinary.)

Rumble turned to see Skywarp and TC approaching with hesitance, unsure wither they shuold interfere with the bitter family reunion. However after seeing no resistance from Soundwave, Ravage or Rumble they continued until they were standing next to them to see Frenzy lying on his back seemingly unconscious.

Rumble felt something rip inside him at the sight. He knew that Soundwave's shot was not meant to kill, but to Rumble it was as if Frenzy was dead. The special brotherly bond that had been dwindling for months seemed to now be hanging by a spider's thread; there, but just barely.

"Frenzy?" Rumble said, trying his best to not make his voice crack. When he received no answer he tried to approach, but was halted.

"Do not approach him," commanded Soundwave.

Thundercracker, who was as baffled as his wing mate, took a fleeting glance at Frenzy and noticed the corner of his mouth pull into a smirk. Thundercracker narrowed his optics in confusion: was Frenzy mockingly smiling at Soundwave's statement?

The lights overhead flickered, diverting their attention.

One shattered and showered Soundwave in glass, but the shards had no effect on the Communications Officer; they almost seemed to tease him.

Rumble retreated back to his spot... all the while feeling as if someone was punching him in the spark chamber over and over again. The lights dimmed when he reached his previous spot and Frenzy began to stand up. An unsettling smile upon his face as he rose one by one to his feet, he was also the first to speak...

"You were all speaking about me and yet you failed to invite me to your discussion?" he asked with false sadness. The Con watched in horror as Frenzy's shadow, which adorned the wall by the doors, suddenly grew and expanded, resembling what Oversight's shadow might look like.

Frenzy tipped his head down and spoke with a smoothness that the Cons couldn't recognize as Frenzy's personality.

"That makes me feel so..."

Frenzy's hand suddenly whipped through the air in a viscious backhand.

Soundwave's head jerked to the left and he fell hard to the ground— victim of the ghost's attack. Skywarp and Thundercracker flinched at the sight, Rumble shivered and Ravage approached Soundwave to make sure he was undamaged before snarling dangerously at Frenzy.

Frenzy's mouth formed into a hostile scowl—as did Oversight's shadow…

"Forgotten," a deep voice hissed venomously, weaved with Frenzy's own.

The Cons stared at the small cassette... who knew that they could fear him as much as they did now.

Soundwave placed his hand to his mouth, placing his dislodged facemask over his face and proceeded to rise to his feet. Ravage snarled threatingly at Frenzy, his optics narrowed into vengeful slits.

Frenzy glanced at Ravage and smirked.

Frenzy pursed his lips together and issued a wet, puckering noise like an owner beckoning his pet. "Here kitty kitty kitty... unseath those pretty claws of yours and let me see them glint..."

Ravage's claws flexed, scratching the floor beneath him as an overwhelming desire to raze the smirk of his face clouded his logic. He took a half-step forward...

_"Ravage: desist. Taunting intended,"_ Soundwave warned.

Ravage lowered his head and irritably growled as he slowly backed off, understanding that the entity wanted a confrontation. That's all it ever seemed to want...

Oversight's shadow smirked behind Frenzy. Skywarp and Thundercracker eyed each other uneasily, feeling fear snaking through their circuitry once more. A small shiver raced through Rumble. He didn't know what to do; he didn't know if he should try addressing his brother, or just stand like a dumbaft frozen in fear.

Rumble, gathering his courage like a child standing up to a schoolyard bully, relaxed his shoulders and exhaled air from his vents. "Frenzy... _bro_... If you're in there. Don't let him control you."

It finally clicked for the Cons why Frenzy had been acting so abnormally—ever since the infamous Med Bay incident...

Frenzy was being controlled by the ghost.

Frenzy didn't move, but Oversight's shadow animated what the entity thought of Rumble's statement: Oversight threw his head back and opened his mouth...

Frenzy suddenly laughed, as if he was dubbing Oversight's silent laughter. Frenzy's laughter was terribly sinister and void of any compassion for his brother. Frenzy suddenly turned back to him, Oversight's empty shadow optics also upon the small mech.

"You're such a stupid child," Frenzy spat with malicious humor. Frenzy's hand lifted to his face and removed his visor... revealing why his visor was so dully lit.

His optics were as black as coals. Hysteria fled through Rumble and all he wanted to do was run away as far as possible.

"I'm _not_ your brother."

Rumble couldn't hold back the words that trembled pathetically from his mouth. "W-What have you done with him?"

Suddenly Frenzy's face contorted into one of desperation and fear, and Oversight's shadow vanished. "Rumble...? Rumble please help me, bro..." Frenzy's voice called to Rumble.

"Ignore him," Soundwave instructed his cassette.

"Rumble... please bro help me!" Frenzy cried once again in desperation, his hand extended and emphasizing his plea. "Please don't let 'em take me again!" Frenzy dropped to his knee plates and buried his face into his hands. His voice muffled into sobbing noises in between calls. "Please... please help me.. please I can't take it anymore. Don't make me go up to the tower! I don't wanna go!"

Rumble took a step forward.

"IGNORE him," Soundwave repeated with sternness.

"Why did you make me go up to the tower? Why Rumble? Why did you do this to me..."

Rumble dimmed his optics, knowing that Soundwave was right. It wasn't Frenzy, he was just mocking him.

Frenzy abruptly stopped sobbing and Oversight's shadow returned. Slowly his head lifted from his hands, revealing a smiling face filled with utter maliciousness. "You won't always have your father to protect you. "

Rumble stiffened at the sound of the entity's baritone voice. Frenzy grinned broadly, exposing his dental plates. "And if you think you're clairvoyant can help you you are _poorly_ mistaken."

"What do you want?" questioned Thundercracker, feeling he had been silent long enough.

He chuckled deeply, "You're just s pathetic as the others. For a faction that claims to be ruthless you have yet to impress me—_e__specially_ you Thundercracker. All thunder, but no lightning aren't you?"

Thundercracker narrowed his optics at the degrading comment.

"And what exactly are _you_?" Skywarp questioned sharply, "Attacking everyone in the dark and using Frenzy as your puppet. What did we ever do to you."

Frenzy/Oversight smirked.

"If you think you are going to get away with anything you are mistaken ghost," Thundercracker shot. "Soon... we'll be dragging you down the halls of the Nemisis."

The entity laughed softly. Frenzy cupped his hand to his audio receptor. "More thunder I hear..."

Thundercracker prepared to step forward, tired of the ghost's goading, but was stopped by Soundwave's hand. Soundwave was prepared to say something but was stopped when he felt an unusual presence in the hallway with them— the same unidentified presence he felt earlier.

He wasn't the only one who felt it.

Frenzy's black optics fixed on a spot down the hall, something that made him grow very angry. Frenzy's body suddenly locked up breifly before he fell to the ground like a marinette whose strings had been cut. Oversight's shadow, which had been staring down the same direction with animosity, glided across the wall with speed they had never witnessed before from the ghost and dissapeared, leaving the mechs standing confused in the hall.

"Why did he leave so quickly?" Skywarp asked. "He seeemed to be talking down to us pretty good."

Thundercracker shrugged. He turned to Soundwave, noticing he was still looking down the hall... as if he sensed soemthing watching him.

"Why do you think Soundwave?" questioned Thundercracker.

There was a long pause, as if Soundwave was asking himself the same question. Then... after the pause had run it's course, Soundwave stepped forward and collected his unconscious casseete before he retreated into his quarters, Rumble and Ravage behind him.

Skywarp and Thundercracker turned to each other, slightly annoyed that he didn't answer their question.

"I guess that means he doesn't know," Thundercracker said.

Skywarp scoffed and rolled his optics. "Figures."

Slowly, they continued their walk to their quarters like they were previously doing before they got sidetracked by the three bangs they heard. They walked in silence until Skywarp decided it had gone on for too long.

"My quarters or yours?" he finally questioned as he walked alongside his wingmate.

"Will it matter?"

* * *

After Soundwave left to talk to Megatron after he had summoned him, Rumble returned to the computer, nearly on the verge of losing his _own_ mind...

What he had just witnessesed with Frenzy was painful. His friend was gone. His brother was gone to that monstrous thing controlling him.

Anger raced through his heated circuitry and he slammed a fist against the tabletop's surface next to his crossed legs in frustration. _Why didn't Soundwave do anything! Why? Why did he do anything but stand there?_

The more the entity showed himself in his twin, the less he felt Frenzy's presence in his spark.

Rumble was getting fed up with nothing getting done and seeing Frenzy getting worse.

A small indicator light in his visor alerted him of a new message waiting in his inbox.

If nobody was going to do anything, he was going to do things himself, no matter where or who he got help from...

**RE: read!  
From: Jn_ Lncstr(a)St. AugustineGhostHunters com**  
**Sent: Sat, September 3, 2011 6:42 p.m**  
**To: RIBFIR_(a) yahoo com**

_I got your message and I'm sorry but I no longer work on cases anymore but I'll try and answer questions you have and I'll do my best to point you in the right direction of what you have so you can get the proper help. That's all I can do for you I'm sorry _

_To answer your question, no… angry spirits and demons are different. Demons are considered not to be human spirits (I have a whole theory on demons you can read on the website if you want diffrent opinion) and angry spirits are 'human' but can be just as bad as demons._ _It's hard to tell over the computer but by what you described your brother may have a case of 'demonic obsession'. Don't let the name fool you angry spirits are capable of this too. demonic obsession is when they entity latches onto a person but dosen't take total control of their personality. This is good, itmeans that he his not fully-possessd which is harder to get rid of. Then again, until you have more proof I can't tell you for sure._

_There's a couple of things I want you to do and I'll review the evidence and tell you what I think you may hav and start narrowing it down to find weaknesses .Evidence is everything!_

_1. Make an EVP. An EVP is an Electronic-Voice-Phenomenon. Leave behind a digital device to record voices. Leave it running all night. Also, 3 p.m is the witching hour so pay close attention to that time and don't go wandering around I guarantee it'll come after you it's the time when they are the strongest. Also try and snap as many pictures as you can during the day. You'll catch something in the film, you'll know when it's time to take a picture. If you think you're being watched… it's because 80% of the time you are if your house is really haunted._

_2. I can never empathize this enough... please do not use a goddamn Ouija Board. Believe me if you do not use it properly it'll sense you are trying to communicate with it and that'll be like throwing out the welcome mat. Also don't be a hero. Remember you're playing by it's rule until you find out what it is. Draw attention and you will GET attention. And it won't be attention you'll like_

_For the time being the best advice I can give you is to try and ignore it and keep a level head. They draw their energy from your emotions and I'm not sure if this is right but by judging by your email you sounded upset. You HAVE to keep your morale up, Ronald. If it senses you are getting emotional it'll use that against you and you could become it's next canidate for possession. _

_I have a shift to get to but if anything else rises shoot me an email and I'll try and help you the best way I can._

_P.S My regards to your brother. Believe me… I know what he is going through._

—_**J. Lancaster**_

As he absorbed the information and instructions the paranormal investigator shared, Rumble sighed with heavy embarrassment.

Inside, he was kicking himself to having to resort to contacting a human, but until Soundwave started to share his plans with him— letting him know that he wasn't wondering around in the dark looking for a solution— he was going to take a different route to save his twin.

He looked over his shoulder plates at his unconscious brother sleeping by Ravage's side on the berth, a tug of disappointment pulling the corner of his mouth.

It wasn't that Rumble didn't have faith in Soundwave—questioning Soundwave's capabilities was like calling Devastator short—it was just that Rumble was impatient, and Frenzy was getting worse. Frenz was his bro… and he would take on Unicron for his bro.

An odd feeling ran through his circuitry and he shrugged his shoulders forward uncomfortably. It continued for a few moments before he was forced to place the palm of his hand to his head, a nauseating ache burning his helm. His optics dulled involuntarily and he had to boost them to their full capacity to retain their normal settings.

A gentle pat against the metal surface of Soundwave's desk caused him to turn his head to his left.

Next to him, transparent, pale and staring wide eye at him was a small human sparkling, accompanied by a femme around the same age who stood behind the boy with a stunned expression as if she had been caught stealing.

Their clothing seemed out-of-place from what he knew of the styles that humans wore in their movies. Their attire was black and white and covered most of their body, although their clothing was modest they still appeared to Rumble barefooted. His toes curled forward as he crawled towards Rumble, a look of tentativeness upon his ghostly face.

Rumble flinched violently, trying to back away from the boy on his hands and knees who seemed stunned that Rumble had rejected his presence. The girl recovered faster than he did and started shouting something inaudible that Rumble couldn't pick up.

Suddenly she turned over her shoulder, turning back to him, she started at the other sparkling with anger upon her face. She shouted to the boy before she disintegrated before him like vapor. The boy hesitated longer, frowning at Rumble; as if very saddened that he had to leave and then vanished as well.

Rumble stared at the empty space where the children were for several long and and confusing moments. Questioning wither he had been hallucinating or he had really seen the two sparkling ghosts and wondering who the frag they were and what were they doing in his room.

* * *

Starscream sat in solitude in his personal quarters, fussing over an outline for a plan he had been developing for several cycles now; another plan to add to his growing list for when finally took his rightful place in the ranks of the Decepticons. Perhaps that would be sooner rather than later, especially after hearing the madness that his fellow soldiers told him and trying to convince the rational Air Commander that their hysterical paranoia was actually cold solid fact… that there was something otherworldly haunting the halls of the Nemesis.

However, beneath the disgusted feeling he had towards his future soldiers submitting to childish irrationalities, ironically he was somewhat impressed by whatever the Autobot had done to his fellow comrades.

He never thought an Autobot could scare them so much that it confused the Cons to start believing in celestial explanations— or be as dirty as the mechs described. However, what impressed Starscream the most is how Soundwave was one of the first converted. Even though he hated him, he never thought an emotionless drone could feel fear—falsecious, unsupported fear, but fear nonetheless.

The only silver lining that came from the affair was now Starscream had credible evidence that he _was_ the mech with the level-head in the insane asylum he called a base.

The data pad was ripped from his hands and thrown across the room, startlingly him so bad he launched himself backwards in his chair.

Frantic optics searched for his invisible data-pad thief before narrowing in rage that the Autobot had been in his quarters this whole time.

He swung himself out of his chair and raised his null rays. Silence hung his room like a heavy fog as he waited for the smallest movement. His scanners darted from one side of the room to another, null rays out dangerously in front of his waiting for anything.

"Where are you…" he questioned in a deadly whisper.

A small tap sounded on his desk, and his optics fell upon it, his arm cannons following the direction of his optics as well. "Here…"

Starscream's optics widened as he whirled behind him and fired.

A purple explosion clouded his vision, sending static cracking across his view as a searing pain in his arms racked his circuitry. He fell backwards with the screechy cry of pain as his body locked up against his will.

His body suddenly went slack and he found himself unbelievably nauseated, his optics barely maintaining to keep themselves online. He knew what had happened… somehow the Autobot had triggered his null ray to blow up in his face, rendering him paralyzed and at his mercy.

"_You dirty pit-spawned Autobot wretch!" _he mentally cursed with utter malevolence.

"Thank you for thinking so highly of me, none of your other comrades are as gentle with their words."

A spark of fear pricked Starscream as his optics searched wildly around for the resonant and saccharine voice, but all he could see was the ceiling of his quarters. _"Who said that! Show yourself! And how the frag do you know what I am saying about you?"_

"We'll get to that in a moment, but first a conversation... Second-in-Command..."

* * *

**A/N:** See ya next time when the Cons present their own ways in expelling ghosts! Thanks for reading and review if you wish.


	13. The Witching Hour Part 1

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 13**

**"The Witching Hour: Part 1"**

Horrified puzzlement engulfed Kenneth's face when he pulled up to work in his grandmother's Prius.

If the large broken window and the pieces of glass outside weren't enough to inform him that someone had broken into the store, the large mess inside was definitely a clear indicator that today might be his last day of employment at Radio Shack.

His dry, cracked hands ran through his oily brown hair, all the way down to the ponytail tied in the back of his head. Without thinking his skinny legs stepped through the shattered window and into the store, his white dirty sneakers trying carefully not to step on the remaining merchandise flung from the display shelves.

"W-What t-the..."

There were no words as his hazel eyes drifted over the pure chaos the thief/thieves left behind for him to deal with…

The HDTV televisions hung by their corners like crooked pictures, batteries, cell phone and car accessories littered the ground like leaves and all the Autobot toys and electronic memorabilia looked as if someone had used them for target practice.

Immediately his hand went to his cell phone and dialed the number everyone knew.

_"911 please state your emergency."_

"Umm… yeah _'hi' _I work over at the, uh, Radio Shack on 346 Soquel Avenue— by the Thai House and the place has been robbed man— FREAKIN ROBBED! The windows broken and, jeez, this place is trashed! My boss is gonna_ freak_! Can you send someone over!"

_"Calm down sir. I will dispatch someone for you right away but for now I want you to not touch anything and wait outside until they arrive," _replied the Operator.

"Umm okay… alright, okay— okay, thanks man, thanks…"

Kenneth turned off his cell phone and stepped over to the door and pulled out his store keys. Very carefully he put the key in the hole and turned it. Even though it looked like they may have come through the window, he would be in even more in hot water if his boss found out he forgot to lock up the store— again.

* * *

Rumble placed the last of the AAA batteries inside the last of his stolen digital recorders and placed it on the pile next to him.

Nobody had missed his departure— one of the benefits to being small. However it also excluded him from other things…

Swindle had some digital recording devices but they were far too big for him to use. He couldn't go to Soundwave for fear that he might discover that he was seeking advice from inferior sources. Building a recording device by hand would take too long for him and he needed a lot of them for such a big area to cover. So stealing primitive human ones was probably the wisest of all his options.

Though he had what the fleshie Ghost Hunter had told him to get, he forgot to answer one question: Where the slag was he supposed to put them?

A small light blinked in his visor. Perhaps he could answer that question now. It seemed his Ghost Hunter was online...

He went over to Soundwave's computer and pulled out his personal keyboard. The room was empty when he got back; he had no idea where everyone was. It was good— he didn't want anyone to know who was talking to.

**RIBFIR: **_hey, you there?_

Rumble waited patiently for a response. _Fleshie better fraggin answer me..._

**Jn_Lncstr: **_Ya, but I have to leave soon. What's up?_

**RIBFIR: **_where do I put the recorders?_

**Jn_Lncstr:**_ In the place with the most activity._

Rumble tried to think back. While at the meeting he had noticed that the Energon Storage Room was the place that most of the others had either been attacked in or heard weird noises. That would be his best bet.

**RIBFIR:** _ok. do I leave them __**AT**__ 3pm or a little before?_

**Jn_Lncstr:** _Huh...? Oh oops... I must have given you the wrong info...__** 3 a.m**__ is actually the witching hour not 3 pm—sorry about the confusion I was in a bit of a rush when I sent you that email. But yes put them in the places you think would get the most responses. _

**RIBFIR:** _Ok. and how will I know if I got anything?_

**Jn_Lncstr:** _What kind of recorder do you have? If it's a newer model you can hook it up to the computer_—_ you may have to download software depending on what you have_—_ and you can look for the spikes in the audio especially if you have a lot or recorders placed around the house. Didn't you say that you have others living with you?_

Rumble would have to be careful with his wording; any normal cybertronian slang he slipped over the message board could be seen as strange— even to a Paranormal Investigator. Quickly, he went to their search engines...

**RIBFIR: **_Uh... yeah. _

Rumble used the first thing that popped up…

**RIBFIR**:_ I live in a frat house. _

**Jn_Lncstr:**_ Frat Guys huh? They aren't the stereotypical ego-loving loudmouth show-offs are they—no offense._

The human's assumption wasn't completely off-target.

**RIBFIR:** _ya kinda. why?_

There was a slight pause on the other end of the internet, which couldn't help but concern Rumble. As he waited, he checked the time to double-check—his optics widened.

Holy Slag it was nearly one in the morning fleshie time! He wouldn't have very long to set up the Digital Recorders...

**Jn_Lncstr: **_How did they react to him?_

**RIBFIR:** _They were scared. They know it's a ghost too_

**Jn_Lncstr: **_Good. An angry ghost/demon like to crush bravado. Just make sure your roommates don't do anything to piss him off like egg it to show itself, or use an Ouija board or any other forms of communicating with it._

**RIBFIR: **_ok, what teh frag is a Ouji Board? I can't even pronounce it!_

Rumble flinched when he was the word that slipped over the message board. Luckily the human didn't seem to notice.

**Jn_Lncstr:** _A Ouija board is a board you use to contact a spirit with. Both you and the ghost move a device called the planchette around the board and point to letters or numbers. You ask a question out loud and the spirit answers by spelling the answer on the board. The reason I have strong feelings against Ouija boards is because people get a board, play around and think that their problems are solved. They don't realize is that by not using it correctly they instead invite the ghost into their home. It took me a long time to master using one and people don't realize how hard it actually it is to use one and NOT invite the ghost in. Don't use one or anything similar, they'll put you in a worse situation. Which is why I also ask that you don't ask it questions either, a wrong emotional tone in your voice could be read that you want to keep the ghost here and, to me, that's the definition of 'opening the door' to more trouble... if you give a mouse a cookie, he's gonna want a glass of milk to go with it..._

**RIBFIR: **_ok I got it. I got another question._

**Jn_Lncstr:** _Ok shoot but make it quick I really gotta be getting to work soon._

**RIBFIR:**_ I saw ghosts last night after I got done readin your mesage. They were kids and they appeared right neext to me. On eof them tried to touch me even._

**Jn_Lncstr: **_You saw two apparitions? Did they seem benevolent or hostile?_

Rumble paused before answering, thinking back on the vivid encounter. Rumble frowned in confusion, though all his encounters with the haunting had been very negative, the kids didn't fit with the activity, especially considering the looks they gave him. Perhaps the femme seemed hostile, but she wasn't threatening him. If anything, they appeared... sad.

**RIBFIR**: _No... they seemed sad or seomthing._

**Jn_Lncstr:** _Did they seem... __**human**__?_

Rumble irked back at the questions. Did they seem human? What the frag kind of question was that?

**RIBFIR:** _Uhh... yeah they were just human spooky little kids._

**Jn_Lncstr:** _Let me get back to you on that one. I need to look through my old notes. Just ignore them for now if they try and make contact with you. Demons are known for changing their appearance to scare or confuse you but I have actually encountered several angry spirits that had mastered doing it too— it depends on the age of the ghost. Just tape the first night and send me the audio if you think you have captured something. I gotta go. Good luck!_

**John Lancaster has signed off.**

Rumble sat staring at the last message, a flicker of annoyance running through his circuitry…

_'Demons are known for changing their appearance to scare or confuse you but I have encountered several angry spirits that had mastered doing it too.'_

Rumble through his hands in the air in utter frustration.

Well_ that's _completely unhelpful!

Was it a demon or an angry spirit? Fraggin Primus it was excruciating not knowing exactly what he was dealing with, because to him it was a life or death situation…

His head dropped and he sighed. In the back of Rumble's mind he was hoping that what was controlling Frenzy was an angry spirit; if the Ghost Hunter was right, they would be easier to get rid of.

But if it was a demon…

He had looked up demons and he didn't like what he found about them. He hoped for Frenzy's sake it was just an angry spirit.

Rumble logged off Soundwave's computer and went to grab the digital recorders he swiped.

Truthfully he couldn't see how capturing the ghost's voice on the tapes would help, but the human had more experience than he did on the matter.

He had no choice but to do what he said.

* * *

With an audio receptor pressed to the wall, Swindle's optics widened at unnatural threats issuing from Frenzy's mouth. Vortex, who was Swindle's bunk buddy, peeled his audio receptor from the wall and looked to meet Swindle's purple visor, confusion on their face-plates.

_"You think feeble restraints will stop me from destroying you and your children! You inferior telepathic swine! This act is only one of many to come!"_

As expected nothing issued from Soundwave's vocalizer as they passed by their quarters, despite his cassette's vulgarity and disrespect to his master.

With that, the two disappeared and nothing more was heard; just uncomfortable silence.

* * *

Soundwave retreated back to his quarters with Frenzy dangling in his grip, the ghost continuing to blast angry and disgusting words through his cassette.

Soundwave was forced to walk the halls with the knowledge that the mechs in their quarters could hear every one of Frenzy's derogatory words at him as they went up level by level—the elevator temporarily malfunctioning and out-of-order.

An overbearing sense of guilt and anger coursed through the emotionless mech's circuits, clouding his logic. He wasn't sure how effective binding Frenzy down would be, seeing that the ghost could possibly unrestraint himself with little effort, but he could no longer allow Frenzy to be able to roam the corridors.

Once again he found him in the Energon Storage Room… partaking in a horrifying act of self-infliction.

Frenzy had been sitting near the circuit box, surrounded by the walls of glowing energon cubes, and had been trying to pull out his own fuel lines; the entity trying to make Frenzy bleed himself into stasis-lock and possibly use the opportunity to break down the remainder of Frenzy's mental barriers to end his life.

Although Soundwave could feel the entity's suffocating presence in his creation, he could also detect his creation in his own spark. He knew Frenzy was very much there— just in stasis-locked mentally; unable to breach past the walls the entity created so he could control Frenzy at will.

Frenzy, for lack of better term, was asleep; dormant.

Even if the ghost could enter and control Frenzy's body, at least restraints would keep the ghost from being able to have Frenzy commit suicide.

Frenzy laughed darkly.

"You moronic faggot," he scorned with a half-smile. "Do you really believe that restraining your child is going to keep him from dying? I am much more creative than you can ever perceive me to be—I can think of a thousand painful ways for Frenzy to die."

Much like the other taunts he had given him throughout their walk back to the quarters, Soundwave didn't respond to the ghost—but he still continued…

"I don't need to manipulate Frenzy in order to make you twinge," he said. "There are other tactics I can use with just as much enjoyment"— A smile stretched on Frenzy's face— "Your comrades call you incapable of emotions… but we know better don't we Soundwave?"

Soundwave's optics narrowed behind his visor.

Frenzy's chassis suddenly heaved outward as his vocalizer emanated a hissing sound. "Your emotions are probably the most potent I have ever consumed. You do so well hiding them on your surface but inside you exhibit the same emotions as the scared and helpless humans I have murdered over the countless years."

He black optics suddenly narrowed in disgust. "You are such a pathetic irony. I knew it the moment I possessed Frenzy and felt your own telepathic connection to him—and just so you are aware, I _allowed_ you to detect my invasion."

Soundwave restrained himself from crushing Frenzy's arm to display his anger—even if Soundwave knew the entity was lying.

"I am the architect of this game— and I have designed it especially for you... to _lose_."

Frenzy's visor-less black optics flickered up and down, studying him like a predator.

"You are so incredibly easy to read." He spat. "Right now I know you cannot even bare to touch your own child. Touching him burns you because your anger for me is so consuming it clouds you're oh so logical _logic_. More than life itself you want to toss me across this hallway and pummel me into submission— until I beg for your forgiveness.

Frenzy 'tsked'; shaking his head, "Careful Soundwave… no matter how much you hate me you cannot harm me… because for an emotionless drone as you are… you just LOVE your children so _very_ much."

The entity's baritone and malicious laugh escaped from Frenzy's mouth.

He was right, deep inside Soundwave felt what the entity described. He couldn't stand to touch Frenzy with the entity taunting him through his creation, he did want to resort to mindless violence and he did love Frenzy— enough to not let the entity get to him not matter what he said.

However the malignant spirit was wrong about one major detail…

He would not lose.

When it came to his family unit, he would not fail.

* * *

Rumble entered the Energon Storage Room oddly relaxed— though still hesitant. Though he knew this part of the base was the most haunted, the air didn't bode the feeling. Perhaps he just failed to notice it as he rushed to place the recorders in the room.

However, as he set the last one and was preparing to leave the temporary relaxing feeling depleted. As he moved closer to the door to exit, he got that dreaded anxiety he usually got when he felt someone watching him.

He couldn't shake it and even though he was done with his task he felt something keep him there… That vanished when he heard something drop**—**what he assumed was one of the recorders.

Instinct made him run to the doors, but something seemed to object to his departure.

Two cold and clammy hands grasped his left wrist and pulled. Rumble panicked and twisted, kicked and cursed viciously— trying in vain to escape.

He was pulled behind a stack of cubes before he was released, his view of the doors blocked from the glowing cubes. Stunned, he shakily rose to his feet, his hand braced against the side of the cube for support.

Something pulled him— pulled him and dragged him like the other Cons in the base. The evil entity? Rumble shivered, his optics scanning around frantically. His feet felt heavy as he eyed the doors of the Storage Room…

However something grabbed onto his hand again and pulled him back to his aft. A force pressed over his lip components, muffling his scream.

He fought until he heard another sound which made him freeze—the doors of the Energon Storage Room opening.

His head turned in the direction of the footsteps clicking across the floor until they stopped. Soon impatient tapping echoed across the room like the ticking of a clock.

Rumble's optics narrowed in confusion, who was in the room with him? Something caught his optics and he turned to it.

It was the same human boy from last night— holding his wrist and holding a hand to his mouth— and off to the side was a girl, looking at him and then worryingly back at whatever Decepticon was in the room with them.

"I know you are in here. Where are you?"

Rumble's optics widened.

It was Starscream. But how did he know he was in the room with him?

Another form entered the scene and took it's place next to the girl…and fear once again flooded Rumble's form.

It was doctor Frenzy described: the slender human male with the bloody head wound, red blotched white coat, small moon-shaped glasses (one of the lenses cracked) and scary disposition. The boy covering his mouth turned to the doctor who stared back at the kid with a dead-pan expression. He titled his head to the side, almost as if signaling the boy to 'scram'.

The boy reluctantly released Rumble and backed off. The boy turned back to Rumble—their eyes locking. Rumble couldn't help but stare at the kid, befuddlement hitting him like a hammer.

The boy looked at him… sympathetically. _Why? Why the slag was he so sad?_

Rumble's fear for the boy died as a strange elation entered his spark as his squishy eyes stared at him with doleful benevolence.

He wasn't threatening. The kid was far from it. He didn't need to be scared of him…

The boy and the girl evaporated before him like ivory sand caught in the wind, leaving him alone with the doctor.

The doctor stared at him indifferently, studying almost as if he was a specimen in a petri-dish; his staunch face not wrinkling to make the slightest expression. Then suddenly his dark eyebrows rose curtly, as his thick white handle-bar mustache twitched. His mouth opened to order a simple, terrifying command: "Leave here."

Rumble complied with the Italian's words and fled, nearly tripping over himself as he ran out from behind the energon cubes. However... he did trip and caught someone else's attention.

Starscream's attention turned to see an unexpected intruder to his privacy. His optics narrowed and a scowl crumpled his face. "What are _you _doing in here runt? _Spying_ on me?"

Rumble rose to his feet, daring to take one last look to see the doctor still watching him intently, his eyes lit seemingly in annoyance.

Rumble ripped his optics away and addressed Starscream as if talking to the Seeker would help him to forget about the ghost's eyes boring into him.

"I-I... I was lookin' for Soundwave... uh... Dragstrip says he saw 'em come in here..." Rumble lied, hoping that the Seeker would accept it. "Have you seen 'em?"

"No I haven't seen your _precious_ master," was Starscream's cynical remark. "I suggest you go look for him _elsewhere _midget."

Rumble would have stayed and defended himself, but the doctor was still staring at him, almost as if silently demanding _'why haven't you left yet?'. _Without another word he turned and left; heading as fast as he could back to Soundwave's quarters.

The doctor looked up; the lights of the Energon Storage Room flickering.

Starscream noticed it as well as his face fell into a business-like disposition.

Unaware he was being recorded...

* * *

Rumble, Soundwave and Starscream weren't the only ones up after hours.

The whole base was infected with insomnia.

They were too afraid to sleep—even with bunk buddies present in their rooms to accompany them.

Everything always happened at night and even if they were together now what was to stop the ghost from entering their rooms and causing havoc anyway? Numbers never seemed to bother the ghost when he was in the Common Room, or running amuck around the base or in the Energon Storage Room.

However there was a few that chose to stay awake through the night in complete solitude.

Starscream, because he didn't believe in the ghost (and because nobody wanted to bunk up with the egotistical maniac). Dead End, Onslaught and Scrapper also shared the same reason. However, the biggest surprise was Breakdown.

He had been bunked up with Dragstrip and Wildrider (Dead End and Motormaster weren't options) but after being badgered by his teammates to tell them what had happened and why he was upset with Dead End, Breakdown turned to Motormaster for a bunk mate... and quickly left afterwards to be on his own.

He sat alone in his quarters, continuingly listening over and over to Buddy Holly's 'That'll Be the Day'.

The Decepticons stayed in their quarters, unwilling to venture into the haunted base until they needed something; as if their quarters qualified as their own panic rooms.

Others were on a mission to escape the base entirely…

Astrotrain, Blitzwing and Reflector walked to the elevator in Triple-Hall/Miscellaneous Hall, preparing to leave for their mission to Cybertron. However they were alarmed to find it inoperable.

"What the slag!" Blitzwing roared, punching the keypad with a little more force than needed to push a button. "I'm getting fraggin' tired of slag not workin' around here!"

"Ditto," the three camera-bots solemnly added, rolling their optics in perfect unison.

Astrotrain's optics slit suspiciously… somehow the malfunction didn't surprise him.

Doors slide open, causing the three to look behind them.

Starscream stalked their way, an unusual but familiar gleam in his optics as the ghost of smirk darkened his face; he was victoriously smug about something.

"Change of plans," he greeted, his optic-rides rising slightly. "Megatron has ordered you three to remain here and to forget about your sleuthing mission on Cybertron."

Optics widened.

"What?" Astrotrain blurted, unable to restrain his anger and disbelief. "Why? Did he give a reason?"

"Yes..." Starscream mused, his vocals cool and collected. "He said that he needs you all for another raid— your presence is needed here and not elsewhere chasing ghosts."

An awkward pause followed until Blitzwing couldn't hold his tongue no longer.

"Why didn't he inform us?" Blitzwing demanded. "Why didn't he just say 'no' when Astrotrain asked for permission to go?"

"He _is_ informing you—by using me," Starscream told them, frowning seriously. He sighed tiredly and added: "Not like I don't have more important, _pressing _matters to attend to than acting as a messenger..."

"Spare us Screamer. Something's off about this and we're going to go ask Megatron ourselves," Blitzwing said, shoving Starscream out of the way and marching in the direction of the stairs.

Astrotrain and Reflector followed. Starscream's optics following them as his smirk broadened wider.

"Yes go ahead… storm into Megatron's quarters to bother and question your leader's actions," Starscream said. "But I must warn you as a mech who practices that everyday, I can tell you with certainty that you will be shot down— literally and figuratively. So... go ahead and continue, or take the orders and save yourself a trip to the Med Bay."

Astrotrain, Blitzwing and Reflector stopped in their tracks, all of them thinking the same thing…

Bitterly, they knew Starscream was right; Megatron's presence was something that nobody—besides Starscream—wanted to test.

But as they looked back to stare at the Seeker they couldn't ignore their feelings that there was something off about they was Starscream was acting. He didn't exhibit anything out of the ordinary, his assholic nature was very much natural and not put on... still there was something that jabbed them all with suspicion.

However for now, until they could find a way around taking Starscream's word for it, the grudgingly accepted and decided to head back to their quarters.

With the quarter doors of Miscellaneous Hall closed, Starscream smiled triumphantly and headed back to his own room.

* * *

**A/N:** Eh... this chapter is kinda shorter than what I liked to put out but I feel I've left you guys without an update for awhile now so hopefully this one will suffice until I write part 2...

Hope you enjoyed it nonetheless and drop a review if you want to— always love hearing all your opinions! :)


	14. The Witching Hour Part 2

**_THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA_**

**Chapter 14**

**"The Witching Hour: Part 2"**

* * *

Rumble fled back to Soundwave's quarters, 3 a.m now the present time. He didn't know what to expect, but the Ghost Hunter's warning of the hour left him with a feeling of ominous foreboding; as if the fleshie knew exactly what was going to happen. Rumble hoped his pessimistic and weary suspicions were just paranoia. However another feeling swirled in his processor...

Confusion. The slagging human kids were driving him crazy! Who were they and why had they appeared to him?

Though Rumble was instructed not to find them, he was almost tempted. They didn't register as a legitimate threat, sure they were ghosts but there was something about the way the boy had stared at him that unsettled him. Why did he seem so _'benevolent'_ towards him? The girl and the Doctor however he was hesitant about.

Frenzy had told him about the Doctor and how terrified he was of him. Rumble couldn't say that was the case with him. He didn't seem hostile, seemingly bitter towards Rumble but his demeanor only suggested that he cynically pitied him and the girl seemed to not want anything to do with Rumble; as if she was forbidden.

The corner of Rumble's mouth tugged. Hey who knew? Despite that the other ghosts may not want anything to do with him, maybe the boy would tell him something. After all, the first time he had reached out for him. Whatever he wanted to say, he would hear it in the morning.

Rumble entered Soundwave's quarters, the door opening for him.

Soundwave was hunched over his desk, his hands by his sides as he sat but his head dipped minutely at his blank computer screen. The quarters appeared more dimly lit than usual, almost as if the bulbs were expiring. Ravage, Laserbeak, Ratbat and Buzzsaw were nearby, the flyers perched as their cyber-cat sibling lay on the berth, his head laying on his paws.

"Boss?" Rumble called out. Soundwave didn't move, almost as if he didn't hear his creation. Ravage's head turned to Rumble. _"He is recharging. Leave him be."_

Rumble nodded his compliance, moving to jump to the berth. He couldn't help but notice a family member missing. "Where's Frenzy?" he asked with a sad sigh.

The other cassette's demeanors seemed to darken as their optics drifted over to the closed closet doors. Rumble optics also followed, his jaw dropping a little, his optics squinting.

"Why's he in there?"

Ravage hesitated, his optics dimmed slightly before they brightened back to their normal setting._ "Because Soundwave can't afford to have Frenzy loose wrecking havoc; he is too infected."_ Ravage didn't have the spark to tell Rumble his own twin tried to commit suicide.

Rumble narrowed his optics. "Frenzy ain't sick! He's jus' bein' controlled by tha' thing! There's nothin' wrong with 'em— it's the fraggin ghost that's making him do everythin'!"

Laserbeak's optics flashed at the blue cassette. _"Ravage did not insinuate anything of that nature. We are well aware of what is happening to him. We know he is not doing these acts consciously."_

"Then don't say that somethin' is wrong with 'em— he'd fight back if it knew what it was makin' him do!"

"Hey Rumble!" called Frenzy from the other side of the closet doors.

Rumble cringed slightly. The ghost was calling him out and the thought made Rumble angry; he knew it wasn't his brother (it was the fraggin' angry ghost, demon whatever the frag it was) possessing his brother talking. He didn't answer.

"Hey! Stupid child!" called Frenzy's voice, much more anger in his voice than before. "I have some information you will want to be informed of."

Rumble's optics narrowed disdainfully, "Frag you," was his answer. Rumble jumped down from the berth and turned to storm out of Soundwave's quarters. He didn't care if it was the witching hour, anywhere was better than being around that thing when it was controlling Frenzy.

"It's about your little recording devices."

Rumble stopped dead in his tracks. Horror engulfing him, he wasn't sure what it could mean if the ghost knew he was trying to record his voice but he didn't sense it could be anything good.

"You want to hear me say something? Here's your chance... come in and visit your brother."

The other cassettes turned to look at Rumble. They weren't sure what the ghost was talking about but the birds, bat and cat knew that whatever it was it was important. It had to be if Rumble was turning around and heading towards the closet door.

_"What do you **think** you are doing?"_ questioned Laserbeak, his sharp avian optics narrowing.

_"You know it only desires to get a rise out of you,"_ Ravage warned, his optics also narrowing at Rumble who was obviously taking the ghost's deadly bait.

Rumble didn't reply and activated the doors to open, stepping through them and closed the door.

Rumble heeded the ghost hunter's words and did his best to try and not show any emotion to Frenzy. Frenzy was against the far wall, sitting on the floor with homemade restraints that Soundwave had made. He sat criss-cross, his chained wrists in his lap. His head was slumped forward, but his black visorless optics were upon Rumble like a snake.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I must not frighten you as much as I thought if you dared to venture in here. I'll fix that," was the ghost's greeting.

"What do ya want?" Rumble demanded, doing his best to keep his vocals deadpan, remembering the ghost hunter's words. _'If it senses you are getting emotional it'll use that against you'... '_

"Aww are you trying to appear unafraid to me?" he chastised with a mocking voice. "How adorable. Your clairvoyant is teaching you good tricks."

Rumble ignored him, his optics narrowing slightly. "Whataya WANT? What's up with my recorders?"

"Just to say that you will not coax me to speak into them, I will be far too busy tonight. I have a few of your comrades I still have to visit," he informed him with a silky voice.

"Besides I just cannot come up with a THING to say!" it laughed. His optics narrowed back at Rumble, a humored look on his face. "Your ghost hunter isn't the only clairvoyant I have made contact with and from what I have read over your shoulder he doesn't seem to be the most dependable."

Rumble's optics narrowed in anger. "You've been watchin' me! Everythin' I do!" Rumble took a step forward, angry bravado in his circuitry giving him the fuel to finally stand up to him. "Why huh? Why ya watchin' me all the time? Ya think that I might be able to get rid of ya? Tha' I might be a threat?"

Frenzy threw his head back and laughed, doubling over from pure amusement. "_You..._ a legitimate threat to _ME_? You really are stupid. Even the dumbest creature could see that it is quite the other way around. By the way... you shouldn't goad me as you just did. You might confuse me and invite me into your base. You call yourself a threat? You can't even follow the rules..."

Rumble nodded, a snickering smile on his face. "Ya maybe I'm not a threat ta ya... but that fleshie Ghost Hunter is isn't he?"

"Do you know how old I am? I can dispense your ghost hunter in so many ways. However... I wonder what would happen if he discovered what you really were _Ronald_. Do you think he would still aid you?"

Rumble frowned minutely, his boast seemingly to be a warning. "Fleshie ain't gonna find out, trust me. I know how ta be sneaky too."

"I'm sure you do," mocked the ghost. "You don't call yourselves Decepticons afterall. As for the title of 'soldiers'... I beg to differ."

Rumble said nothing; no retort coming to processor as the thing laughed at him again.

Frenzy launched himself forward, jumping to his feet and coming at Rumble until the restraints held him back. Frenzy stood a foot away from him, his black optics peering into his soul. Rumble flinched but managed to stop himself from taking a step backwards. The ghost was intimidating and it was difficult to stand his ground but he knew he couldn't show fear to it— it's what they fed off. Besides... he still hadn't answered his question.

"What have ya done with my recorders?" Rumble demanded, "I knew you must have done somethin' to them. Ya like ruining things."

He smirked. "Indeed," he replied with a chuckle.

An awkward moment passed; Rumble waiting for him to say anything further, but when he didn't Rumble pressed for more details.

The door to the closet opened and Soundwave appeared, Rumble turned just as Soundwave grabbed him and forcefully dragged him out of the closet, shutting the door behind him to conceal his possessed cassette.

Rumble's face fell, feeling like the kid who got caught ditching school, and stumbled as Soundwave pulled him. Soundwave stopped, let go and straightened his posture.

"Reason for conversing with entity," he demanded, staring down at Rumble.

Rumble could sense Soundwave's strong disapproval despite asking in his normal monotone. Rumble rubbed his wrist, running his hand up and down his arm nervously; an explanation not coming to mind.

"Entry to the closet; prohibited," he said. "Conversing with Frenzy; _strongly_ prohibited."

Rumble's spark sank; he decided to change the subject. "Have ya found a way ta get rid of 'em yet?"

Soundwave stared down at his cassette. "In progress."

Rumble frowned, the corner of his mouth lifting in a disappointed tug. Soundwave's answer was vague, but... it seemed that he was trying. However anger and trepidation set in. More than anything he just wanted his brother back to normal and the conversation with his twin right now wasn't helping him to think that Soundwave was winning.

He didn't want to admit— nor thought he would ever think it— perhaps the Ghost Hunter actually had more of a handle on the situation than Soundwave.

Suddenly his face fell...

The recorders. He didn't say what he did with them. Did Rumble dare to find out?

Curiosity and fear clashed within his spark. He didn't want know what the ghost was up to though the ghost suggested that time was of the essence. However fear made him question if the whole recorder thing was a trap to get him out the way... in case the ghost did see him as a threat (because the human knew what he was talking about).

He really didn't want to but he was going to have to take the ghost's dare and venture back to the most haunted spot in the Nemesis.

Rumble turned and retreated towards the door, hesitance clearly in his steps as he crossed the safety of Soundwave's quarters and into the hall. Rumble scoffed inwardly. Safety? What safety? There was no place left that was safe...

Soundwave watched his cassette leave, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He had always been aware of Rumble feeling of resentment towards him because he hadn't 'acted' yet. He truly wished he could have eased Rumble's worries for not only himself but for himself as well.

A scan showed that Frenzy's energy levels were starting to slowly deplete, as if the ghost was draining the energon from Frenzy's very fuel lines.

It was exhausting. He still had not found one report of ghosts in the Cybertronian archives and therefore no information on them whatsoever. He was debating wither to research human information to see if the actions of the ghost coincided with anything— despite his beliefs that human sources were inferior. _Perhaps_ as a last resort.

For now his main focus and plan was to break the ghost's telepathic walls and search through it's mind for answers and weaknesses. However there were complications: his mind seemed... dispersed; as if it wasn't all intact. It was very odd— intriguing, different but still very odd. Besides, the ghost had no helm for him to latch onto.

A thought occurred to him; realization hitting him.

He _did_ have a body.

He had Frenzy.

Soundwave's visor drifted to the closet, his body turning to face it. They were telepathically linked; they had to be if the ghost kept returning to Frenzy's body. The ghost had made his roots... that meant that by invading Frenzy's mind would lead him to the ghost's thoughts.

But it was very dangerous.

Just as Soundwave could trespass the ghost's mind if he made a telepathic attack, the ghost could in turn gain information on him if Soundwave became distracted. So far he had been successful in keeping the ghost out of his processor; his strong mental barriers acting as a thick wall of protection. But what would happen if the ghost gained knowledge about him? Soundwave's processor raced, weighing the pros and cons.

Truly the only secrets he had were those regarding Decepticon plans. He didn't really harbor any other secrets except the attachment to his creations which the ghost already knew about anyway.

However... did he really want the ghost being able to snoop around his thoughts? His thoughts were always his private matter— he never shared them with anyone and he certainly didn't want to share them with the abomination controlling his creation.

But... what other plan did he have?

Ravage, Laserbeak, Buzzsaw and Ratbat looked at the master attentively, sensing that there was something up and wondering why he was staring at the closet doors... as if he thinking about going in.

Laserbeak and Ravage could feel thoughts swirling about Soundwave's mind, calculating thoughts that pertained to Frenzy; there was no other reason why he would be looking in that direction. Soundwave took a step forward.

_"What are you doing?"_ questioned Ravage.

Soundwave didn't bother to answer his creation, causing the cat to rise to his feet and walk to the end of the berth.

_"Soundwave?" _cawed Buzzsaw.

Soundwave took a fleeting glance at his cassettes, the looks on their faces urging him not to proceed. However, with nothing to say he turned back to the closet, opened it and entered.

The door closed behind him, but Ravage still caught a glimpse of Frenzy's smirk from Soundwave's arrival.

* * *

Astrotrain sat in his computer chair, Blitzwing leaning against the wall and the Reflector triplets hanging their feet over the side of his berth. Astrotrain leaned back in his chair, his feet planted on the floor but his knee trembling rapidly in thought, a look of anger on his faceplate as he rested his chin in his hand.

Blitzwing said nothing though he could sense his fellow Triple-Changer was agitated. Even without their friendship anyone could have seen that being forced to remain in the base was what was eating at him.

Astrotrain's bottled anger and thoughts exploded, sending the chair backwards as he headed for the door of his quarters.

"Where you going?" questioned Blitzwing with a curt nod up.

Astrotrain halted before he exited his quarters. "Something just doesn't make sense and I can feel it. I don't care if Megatron chews me out, I'm going to double-check. I'm not lingering in this pit-hole because of _Starscream's_ order."

Blitzwing watched his retreating form, holding back for a moment to contemplate backing him up. He looked at Reflector as if for a second opinion, they glanced at each other than nodded. Blitzwing headed for the door, the Camera Bots following him.

Astrotrain turned over his shoulder-plates to see the others accompanying him. The gesture relaxed him and he gave them an appreciative nod before they headed to the stairs.

* * *

Scrapper walked the halls of Constructicon Hall, heading towards the malfunctioning doors of the elevator. He didn't mind the late night call to come and operate them, there was always work to be done and it wasn't the first time he pulled an all-nighter. He actually preferred to work at night— less distractions.

He gave the doors of his combiner teammates a glance over, shaking his head disappointingly as he passed. He couldn't believe them at times— certainly now. He just couldn't believe the absurdity, a ghost. Did they hear themselves? A ghost in the Nemesis? A supernatural mythical creature created by paranoia and _that_ was their answer?

He never thought he would find himself on the same side of the line as Starscream (another non-believer) and the thought of sharing it with the Seeker filled him with disgust.

He tried his best to get rid of his thoughts and stopped, his hands beginning to dance on the keypad.

He activated the panel and looked to find where the elevator last stopped and what the problem was. The elevator was near to the ground floor, where the Air Lock, Energon Storage Room and where Megatron's quarters were however... nothing seemed the matter...

His head turned in the direction of the Med Bay at the end of the hall. The doors had slid open and he certainly remembered them being closed.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, followed by laughter; filled with pure evil.

Scrapper approached slowly, his weapon drawing out in front of him as he crept closer, determined to find out who was in the Med Bay. He knew the laughter didn't belong to any of his comrades.

As he neared, the hall became quiet, the silence unsettling him. He halted before stepping foot inside the Med Bay, weary of the intruder (or any Con up after hours). He stepped in, the dark Med Bay mixed with the light of the hall causing shadows to dance about the wall. Which was very odd...

The tools hanging on nearby hooks swung as if there was a breeze present, but there was none.

What sounded like a whip snapped forward and rung in his audio receptors, causing his head to turn, his weapon trained out in front of him in defense.

His weapon slowly fell uselessly to his side, his optics widening behind his visor. His shadow...

His shadow moving against the wall with a mind of it's own but that wasn't the only thing disturbing. An empty berth lay by him however according to the shadows on the wall it was occupied. He couldn't tell the shape of who but it was definitely a Seeker, struggling in vain against restraints.

His shadow moved back to the figure on the berth and walked around the berth, his hands folded behind his back and his head leaned forward.

Evil laughter rasped, sounding all around him, making the Constructicon cringe.

Another sound invaded his audios and he backed up, horrified as he watched his shadow produce a power-saw from behind it's back. It whirred viciously, looking to mercilessly cut through anything it's sharp edges could sink into.

The Seeker figure struggled in vain, trying to fight his way out of the restraints, his pleading cries drowned out by the roar of the power-tool. The power tool came down, slicing through the left leg, the victim screaming in pain, throwing his head back in agony.

Scrapper would not stay and watch anymore, he turned and left the Med Bay. The sound of the power-tool still ringing in his audio receptors as closed the doors of the Med Bay and stumbled backwards, his face filled with terrified awe, finally understanding what the others had been talking about as the laughter was muffled by the closing doors.

* * *

Dead End retreated from his quarters and headed towards Breakdown room, Buddy Holly's 'That'll Be the Day' still playing on the other side. He thought he'd be sick of it by now but apparently Breakdown really, really liked that song.

Dead End allowed himself a sigh.

He needed clarification and he needed it now. Though he knew it wouldn't matter in the inevitable end, he still wanted to know the reason for Breakdown's sudden rejection of him. Why was he angry with him? He didn't recall doing anything and he certainly had nothing to do with attacking him, however it seemed that Breakdown couldn't help but connect the two and he wanted to know why.

Dead End knocked courteously on the door; soft and business-like. "Breakdown may I speak with you?"

No answer.

He tried again. "Breakdown open the door, this is pointless."

A door slid open.

Motormaster exited his quarters and walked towards Dead End. He said nothing to Dead End, his actions spoke loud enough.

Motormaster banged a heavy and powerful fist against the door in a blunt knock. "Open the door Breakdown so I can smash that stupid fraggin' radio!"

Dead End wasn't surprised that the doors didn't open, although Breakdown's silence was somewhat unnerving... he may not want to talk to him but he would have said something to Motormaster.

Motormaster's features crossed with anger and he gave his teammate one last warning. "Open the door or I'll break it down!"

"Please do as he asks Breakdown, you know he has the capability," Dead End pleaded with a tired drone.

When there was no answer Motormaster turned to Dead End, shooting him a look, Dead End understood. "Yes I know, back away... again." Dead End walked a couple of spaces back and turned to look down the hall, noticing Dragstrip and Wildrider were peeking out to watch.

Motormaster lifted a leg and kicked the door down as if it was a piece of feeble plywood. The door buckled and clanged against the surface of the floor. Motormaster and Dead End entered Breakdown's dark quarters, the lights off and 'That'll be the Day' repeating over and over.

They were shocked. Breakdown wasn't anywhere to be found.

He was gone.

* * *

Starscream walked in High Command Hall, his face somewhat smug as he headed to his own quarters. His optics sparkled with a malevolent gleam as the corner of his mouth tugged into a satisfactory smirk.

Starscream entered his lavished quarters; filled with Cybertronian luxuries stored neatly on shelves as well as delicate scientific instruments that decorated his desk. He sat himself in his chair and began working on his weapon outlines, his optics wandering around for any invisible specters watching him.

He felt no presence and began to work.

Suddenly, his head snapped forward and crashed against the desk— earning a surprised pained cry from him. The grip at the back of his neck pulled back, his body dragging the chair he was sitting in to the floor as well.

Starscream flared, throwing his data pad against the wall. He settled when he felt the presence in the room with him. "Why so displeased all of a sudden?"

Starscream listened intently, his form still as the ghost spoke telepathically to him. "Impossible! I didn't fail! I stopped the Triple-Changers— how does that qualify as failure?"

More angry words were shot into his processor. Starscream's optics widened briefly before falling into a puzzled look. "Breakdown? So what if he escaped? Do you really need_ every_ single Decepticon in the base? Can't you make do with the disappearance of an unthreatening exception?"

Starscream paused, listening.

"Breakdown is too moronic and frightened to return back to the base— so what if magically _happens_ to find out what you are"— Starscream stood and started to pace his quarters, an arrogant air hanging around him—"Besides... why not tell the others what you really are? I'm sure they would become more obedient if they knew. Why keep up the façade?"

"Oh... I see your point. Clever, I shall have to remember that."

Starscream stopped in his tracks. "A problem. How so?"

Starscrean couldn't help but laugh, even though he knew it wasn't a good idea; it was his nature. "It's just a human! Exactly how is he a credible threat?"

Starscream's laugh quieted down as he listened to the ghost's reasoning. Slowly he began to understand. "I see..." Starscream nodded, placing his hands behind his back. "He is knowledgeable and experienced which gives Rumble hope... and you must destroy hope in order to conquer."

Starscream's processor raced as he listened to the reason, causing him to smirk."If I deal with him, will you give me another lesson? I have already mastered the first one."

Starscream's smile widened more but then vanished at the instructions. "Why not just terminate him? Wouldn't that simplify things?"

Starscream threw up an impatient hand, signaling him to stop. "Alright alright I see your point."

* * *

Rumble ran to the last of his digital recorders as fast he could muster in the Energon Storage Room, hoping that at least one of the tapes hadn't end up like the others. He ran down the corridor to the breaker box and skidded to a halt, frustration hitting him.

Destroyed. Just like the others; ripped apart and displaying the inside anatomy of the recorder.

Rumble dropped to his aft, utter despair hitting him, anger soon replacing it. He hit the floor with a violent jerk of his leg, stomping frustratingly. He buried his face in his hands, stress engulfing him. Everything he did was futile; the fragger always seemed to be a step ahead of him!

Rumble scoffed angrily. He knew why he was... he was always watching him— he just told him he did. But how? How was the ghost so observational? How did it seem to know exactly what everyone was doing?

Perhaps it was what Swindle had said; that the ghost had been lying in wait and assessing their weaknesses and personalities. Perhaps to keep note of who it should watch the most...

Rumble sighed, grudgingly picking himself up and walking towards the door and back to Soundwave's quarters. They still had so many unanswered questions despite the thing being here so long: Why was it here? Who was it? And why Frenzy?

It didn't seem his Ghost Hunter would be helpful if the ghost was always a step ahead. For once he would like something that inspired hope; he was tired of feeling helpless and angry.

Rumble exited the corridor and headed for the doors, passing by one of his destroyed recorders (one he flung across the room in frustration after he found it) and stopped, looked down it and shook his head.

Well... they were useless; hopefully when he came in contact with his Ghost Hunter again he could offer some more ideas.

Something skidded across the floor to him, causing him to jump involuntarily. Adrenaline rushed through his circuits... but he calmed when he saw what the object was.

It was one of his recorders— and it was intact!

Rumble was stunned— was he hallucinating? He bent down to pick up, confirming to himself that he wasn't. Confusion ran through his circuitry— how?

Rumble stopped, raised his free hand and counted the number of recorders he had. Ironically, he was pleased to see that he miscalculated; he had forgotten about one.

But again— how?

Rumble glanced up from beyond his hand to see the boy, huddled behind the stack of energon cubes, looking at him with a worried expression as if he did something wrong; half of his face and body concealed.

Rumble looked down at the recorder and back to him. He couldn't believe it... the boy must have saved the recorder from termination. He... _helped_ him.

The boy turned to leave. Rumble reached out, unsure exactly what he was doing. "Wait no kid please wait!" he called out, desperation in his vocals but he didn't care. He wanted answers and perhaps the boy had them.

Rumble ran to the cubes of energon and stopped, the boy sliding against the wall of energon cubes. Rumble approached hesitantly, not wanting to scare him off. "Please kid... please talk ta me."

Frightened, he shook his head, his eyes crumpling from fear before he vanished. Rumble sighed heavily, wondering if he did something wrong. He knew that the Ghost Hunter told him to ignore the children, but they weren't a threat— the saved recorder was evidence of that.

He would have to save his question for later if the boy for next time he showed himself and that was fine for now.

He would wait, but first he had some audio to listen to.

* * *

Scrapper sat alone table in the dark Common Room, an untouched cube of energon in front of him. He wasn't interested in refueling; his mind was fixated on the shadow play in the Med Bay and wondering if he was coming down with the same insanity as the others.

There had to be a logical explanation, perhaps it was a hallucination brought on by the sleepless nights. Yes perhaps... sleep deprivation is a logical explanation. Perhaps that was all it was.

Feeling slightly more relaxed by the thought, he dared to take a sip of his energon; his hand only trembling slightly.

The doors slid open revealing Onslaught who was surprised to see an occupant. Nonetheless the Combaticon leader approached his table, throwing a soft hand and gesturing to the chair: "May I join you or would you prefer solitude?"

"Please," Scrapper said, not moving an inch.

Onslaught nodded professionally and sat down. They sat in silence before it was interrupted...

Starscream entered, with nothing more than a curt rise of his metallic brows he sauntered over to the Energon Dispenser and grabbed himself a cube. He turned, leaning against it and drank before speaking: "Lovely night isn't it?"

Onslaught and Scrapper stared at the Seeker suspiciously, they didn't miss the pleasant tone he used— always an indicator that he was up to something.

"I'll take your silences that you agree," Starscream said, taking another sip, smiling as he gulfed down the cube.

Onslaught finally spoke up. "If I may ask, what suddenly has you in such a good mood?"

Starscream looked up and detached his lips from his cube to answer. "Oh nothing, I just finally get to leave this base. About time, the insufferable planet is becoming much more appealing than staying trapped in this base with a bunch of paranoid glitches." Starscream smirked, shaking his head in amusement. "Ghosts..."

Starscream's optics brightened with humor as finished his cube, tossing the empty cube on a nearby table before turning to leave. The combiner leaders continued to stare at him in a distrusting fashion, there was something very off about him they just couldn't pinpoint what it was.

"Well, evening gentlemechs... _enjoy_ the rest of the night," Starscream said, his good-bye carrying a sinister undertone.

Scrapper and Onslaught exchanged glances with each other, both of them clearing not liking Starscream's parting words. A realization crossed Scrappers mind. "How is he going to get out of here if the elevator is malfunctioning?"

Their answer was the sound of the elevator doors opening. Scrapper's optics widened in confusion behind his visor, causing him to rise from his chair and exit the Common Room, Onslaught behind him.

They just exited the room to get a glimpse of Starscream's smile before the elevator doors closed. Scrapper and Onslaught looked at each other, none could offer an answer.

"The elevator was not operating before," Onslaught informed him, "I tried taking it myself."

A deep cackle sounded behind them, coming from the opened doors of the Common Room. They took a step back. A table was thrown upside down, crashing against the floor heavily with a thunderous thud. They both took several steps back.

"Show yourself!" called Onslaught.

Silence... and then a strangled gurgle.

Pressure engulfed Onslaught's neck as he was lifted off the ground, his hands shaking as pain engulfed him. Suddenly he was thrown onto his back and the pressure left, but not the pain. Scrappers stood frozen, he couldn't believe it... Onslaught was lifted into the air by nothing.

Onslaught tried to rise, bringing his is chest up before he was sent back to the floor, three stinging lines across his face-plate. Something had scratched him.

Onslaught worked himself to his feet, as stunned as his companion. He had seen no attacker, detected no Autobot signature, saw no evidence of another presence. Almost as if it was the very air that had attacked him.

Onslaught's optics widened when he glanced down the hall... lingering in the doorway was a dark humanoid shaped figure with no facial features except glowing yellow eyes that stared malevolently at them.

Scrapper followed Onslaught's gaze and backed up into his fellow combiner. The figure raised his arms in front of him, his hands sharp and slashed them through the air. Scrapper was thrown against the nearest wall like a rag doll—a painful example to demonstrate its remarkable abilities.

The doors to the stairs opened, revealing the Stunticons that were looking for their fellow teammate. Motormaster stopped dead, followed by Dragstrip and Wildrider who collided into the goliath's back. Dead End approached both curiously and hesitantly as he walked around his teammates, standing in front of them as Scrapper's arm was painfully brought behind his back and twisted into a restraining position.

The dark figure's eyes locked on Dead End and narrowed, as if in a pleased and evil smile.

For the first time Dead End felt uncomfortable as the explanation for Breakdown's rejection of him was revealed. The faceless doppelganger stretched it's hands out in front of him and curled it's fingers in an aggressive manner. It hovered backwards until it disappeared.

Scrapper was released and crumpled to the floor, rubbing his arm soothingly. All the Cons standing dumfound in the hall.

Dead End's head lowered and he placed a heavy hand to his forehead. Despair hitting him; he understood... he finally understood why Breakdown hated him.

* * *

Astrotrain stood in front of the doors, his friends behind him to back him up as he stood in front of Megatron's quarter doors. With a deep intake of air to soothe his overheating circuitry he lifted a hand and knocked on the door.

"What?" called the Decepticon Commander inside. "Who is it and state your business."

"It's me sir— Astrotrain. I don't mean to disturb you but I request to know why you ordered us to stay here for the raid."

There was silence on the other end of the door, making Astrotrain slightly uncomfortable and cautious. Then the sound of Megatron's approaching footsteps caused him to back up slightly, unsure what mood he sparked.

Megatron's doors opened, revealing a face he didn't expect. Confusion was marred on Megatron's face as he stared at his soldiers. "What raid?"

Their optics widened in horror. "The raid one that you need us for, the one that Starscream reported to us," Astrotrain clarified, feeling nervousness in his spark.

Megatron's optics flashed. "What? I ordered no such thing. The only order I had was for you to go to Cybertron to complete the task you requested. There is no raid planned."

"But that's not what Starscream told us," Reflector spoke up. "He said you cancelled it."

Megatron stared sternly at them, his face expressing his clear disapproval. "Did he?" his features darkened even more. "Bring him to me immediately! I would like a word with him regarding his place."

The Cons saluted before they walked back to the stairs, Megatron closing the doors behind him. Astrotrain flared. "He lied to us. He wanted us here!"

"But why?" Reflector questioned. "Why would he care if we were here or not?

"He probably doesn't want us to go because he thinks the mission is a waste of time, you know how much of a busybody that slagger can be," Blitzwing said.

"Still... I knew something wasn't right and I knew Megatron would inform us himself than sending that slagger to delay us," Astrotrain scowled.

"Well so what, at least we still get to go on our mission. Let's find the slagger, send him to Megatron for a poundin' and get the slag out of here!" Blitzwing said, smiling at the thought of Screamer getting punished painfully.

The others nodded in agreement. Although they didn't know why Starscream had lied to them, in the end it wouldn't matter because they were given the green-light to proceed.

Which meant they were closer to finding out the ghost's true identity.

* * *

Soundwave paced the floor, disappointment in his spark as he glanced over at the Frenzy's cassette form lying on his berth.

Nothing. He wasn't able to extract any information from Frenzy's infected mind. The connection was blocked, as if Frenzy's systems shut off when the ghost was absent from his body. To his frustration he had underestimated the ghost, but at least now he knew that he would have to invade Frenzy's mind when the ghost was controlling him. Dangerous, but doable.

A step closer, but still a long road to the end... but at least he had begun.

Soundwave picked up Frenzy and brought him back over to his work station, transformed him back by hand to his bipedal form and started to repair him before the entity saw fit to control him again.

* * *

Rumble entered Storage Room 16A, the perfect place to listen to the recording device while Soundwave was still in the room. He sat himself on a box and sighed heavily.

He was nervous; he had no idea what he would find on the tape. He felt as if he was trespassing into enemy territory, both exciting and terrifying. He checked his internal clock... the witching hour was over.

He looked down and pressed play, listening intently. His posture upright and ready for anything the ghost had to say...

He wasn't ready for this.

His optics widened when Starscream's voice was heard, he skipped past the part where he was talking to him and he ordered him to get out but it was the next part that stunned him.

"I accept."

Rumble froze on the box, the recorder in his hand hanging limply.

Starscream was working with the ghost.

That didn't sound like a good combination at all...

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry I didn't answer any reviews like I usually do— College has started and it's been keeping me busy. ^^; Nonetheless I will make up for it now...

**9aza: **Lol I promise that the ghost children have significance and more and more clues to how will be dropped in from time to time until the answer is revealed. :)

**Psyconinja7:** Thanks! Glad that you like it! :)

**Anonybot:** Oh girlie you are right on the money! The reason why I chose for him to be in cahoots with the ghost instead of being possessed was exactly how you said it; I wanted it to tie into the G1 plotline. I love trying to make things a canon as possible. Spot on and well done! :)

**Jason M. Lee:** Lol, yes EVP's are awesome. XD I think I know which Ghost Adventure tool you are talking about though my memory is a bit fuzzy. Is it the device that uses a dictionary to pinpoint the word a spirit is saying at a present time? Forgive me if I'm wrong, it's been awhile since I've been able to catch the show. D:

**Taipan Kiryu: **Lol, yes it must be nice to be able to shoplift whenever they want and not have to worry about that little thing called currency. :P Ahh... yes the Exorcist, like Psycho it is inspiration for this fic. One of my favorite horror movies of all time though I promise my ghost is no trash-talking Pazuzu... I like to think as mine having a little more class but even he can't help divulging in a little language now and then for dramatic effect. XD And thank you! If one thing has been the most difficult it has been displaying Soundwave's emotions realistically, it's very easy to make him OOC though I'm glad to hear that I avoided it. :) Another thanks and I totally agree with you, horror should be more psychological and not repetitive like teen horror slashers. "Let me guess... she is going to trip. Yep she tripped." Lol. Many thanks for the wonderful complements! Very much appreciated! :D

**Northwest Sage: **Thanks! Glad to hear! ;D

**P.A.W.07:** Lol, yep there is nothing more awesome to pick on the Cons. They deserve it for trying to wipe us pathetic humans out. Though I plan everything out for the story before I write it things tend to change which is why I can neither deny nor agree to more Autobot appearances in the story. They might and might not, depends on what happens and what new ideas come. However I will say that you are very correct about something you mentioned... I'm just not going to tell you what. MUWHAHAHA! ;D

Many thanks to everyone for the reviews and thanks for reading!

See ya next time! :)


	15. No Leaf Clover

**_THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA_**

**Chapter 15**

**"No Leaf Clover"**

* * *

"Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel/ Was just a freight train coming your way..." (_No Leaf Clover) Metallica_

* * *

Breakdown screeched from the highway and entered onto a gravel road tucked between a forest of conifers, ignoring the human drivers blaring their horns at him in reaction from his abrupt and hazardous turn.

He didn't care, they couldn't see him anymore, couldn't judge him he now he had entered the night forest road flanked by trees— alot and alot of trees. He continued to kick up dirt as he turned a sharp corner, his back sliding slightly. He was almost there. There was a cave he could hide in, it was the only place nobody would think of to look for him— he was the only one who knew about it. There was nothing but roack walls in the cave. No one to stare at him... nothing to come after him.

He felt guilty about leaving his teammates back at the base, and he was a hundred-times sorry (or at least he would be if Megatron— or worse Motormaster— got a hold of him) but he couldn't bear to be there anymore.

It was agony on his processor and circuits, never had he felt more paranoid. He always felt— no, _KNEW_— he was being watched. He didn't know what it wanted from him but it seemed to enjoy making him feel uncomfortable and afraid. Sure it targeted the others, he was sure it did, but he always felt it's attention on him the most.

He screeched to a halt, gravel kicked up and bouncing off the close trees and boulders on the side of the road.

There it was again... he was being watched. He knew he was being watched. Optics were upon him somewhere, the owners lurking behind the trees waiting for him. Autobots maybe? Or maybe that ghost followed him out here. Maybe he was his target!

He transformed and drew his weapon from subspace, aiming it around in all directions. His optics targeted simple objects through the darkness, confusing them as threats.

A branch snapped, causing him to move his gun in the direction to his left. His spark swirled, through the trees was a dark figure, roughly shorter than him but still imposing and it caused him to back off slightly.

"Who's that? Show yourself!" he called to his stalker.

The figure moved forward but Breakdown kept his place, standing bravely to the mech approaching him. To his surprise a friend emerged from the trees—well... an _acquaintance_ at best.

Kickback stared at him with borderline annoyance. "What're you doing?" he questioned, his antennas twitching. "Don't you know this is Insecticon woods? We don't break into your base uninvited Stunticon so keep out of our territory."

"Yeah you do. You break in all the time."

Kickback flashed an inept smirk. "Not anymore, we've stopped that habit," Kickback informed, a semi-frown on his face.

Breakdown lowered his weapon and his fear quickly left despite the ill-tempered greeting; it was just an Insecticon— he was below him. "Where are _your _friends?"

Kickback shrugged, "Eh they're recharging. I just came out here for my nightly munch. Pines are good at night they fill you enough for you to get back into your recharge cycle and if you eat enough you still wake up full."

Breakdown said nothing and stored his weapon away. "Oh..." was all he said, unsure how to respond.

"Although," Kickback crossed his arms over his chassis. "I'm surprised to see _you_ without a friend. You're always too scared to go it alone. What's wrong? They squeeze you in the aft the wrong way?"

Breakdown narrowed his optics minutely but answered, "No... it's just...I just needed to get away from the base..."

A humored smirk tugged on Kickback's face, an inept chuckle escaping. "Yeah I don't blame you."

Breakdown looked at him, studying him. There was something about the way that the Insecticon said that threw him off. "Whatya mean by that?"

Kickback frowned again, the chatty bug growing very silent— the type of silence that unnerved him all the time. _What did Dead End call it...? Oh yeah awkward silence..._

Kickback came forward, his face dead-pan, and stood right in front of Breakdown. He leaned forward towards Breakdown; Breakdown felt uncomfortable and leaned his body away from the Insecticon, feeling his personal space being invaded.

Kickback's olfactory sensors took a whiff of Breakdown and his face pulled into a repulsive expression. He took a step back from Breakdown and smiled at him with uncomfortable pity. "Oh yeah... I _definitely_ don't blame you."

"What?" Breakdown said, looking over his own form with frenzied optics.

Kickback shook his head, realization hitting him as he stared at Breakdown for a long moment. "You really don't know do you?"

"Know what?" Breakdown asked, confusion marring his face.

Kickback turned to the side and nodded his head towards the direction of the woods. "Come with me... there's a boulder big enough for you to sit on— you're going to need it."

And with that Kickback walked into the woods, followed by a hesitant Breakdown who thought the Insecticon was leading him into a trap. However if the Con wanted to kill him he would have done it already and besides Breakdown was slightly intrigued, especially after he lifted his own arm and brought it to his olfactory unit… unable to identify what the Insecticon had smelled on him.

* * *

Blitzwing, Astrotrain and Reflector couldn't help notice the lights as they searched for Starscream. They didn't know if it was just them or if the lights appeared to shine a little brighter, almost as if they returned to their normal status for the first time in almost a year. Each individually thought it was just them and didn't care to share their observation with each other, but they universally saw it and felt oddly calmer despite their frustration that Starscream was nowhere to be found.

They also noticed that the elevator was back in operation; they saw mechs come and go in it all morning.

Blitzwing sighed, running the palm of his hand over the back of his neck. This was a waste of time and he could sense Astrotrain's shared feelings from his body language. His frenetic optics and increasing agitation were all the signals he needed to paint a picture. He wanted to leave but was furious that he had been lied to; he wanted to fulfill his mission but he also wanted to have Starscream punished and the Air Commander's lack of presence wasn't helping.

An idea came to Blitzwing, something that would settle each of their discomposing circuits.

"Hey guys stop for a fraggin' astro-second," Blitzwing said, halting the group. They complied and looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Look, if we haven't found Screamer by now he's gotta be outta the base somewhere," Blitzwing began. "You take Reflector and I'll find Starscream, that way we have two things done at once."

Astrorain flashed an amused smirk. "You know Blitzwing you can actually be intelligent when you want to be."

Blitzwing frowned bitterly at the remark. "Just get your ugly face outta here and do your mission," he said as he passed by his fellow Triple-Changer, giving him a hard but friendly punch in the shoulder plates as he passed.

Astrotrain turned slightly and called behind him. "Give Screamer a punch for me when you catch him."

Blitzwing, without turning to face him, continued to walk down the corridor and threw up a lazy acknowledging wave.

Astrotrain and Reflector glanced at each other, the three Camera-Bots nodding their heads to the elevator.

* * *

Rumble had remained on the box in Storage Room 16A for nearly the entire half of the early shift but the time was far from his processor. He had been replaying the audio recording over and over, trying to figure out what the voices on the tapes were telling him.

About thirty-minutes into the recording he found out that it was the entity that had destroyed all the recordings, each time he could hear what sounded like hollowed breathing accompanied by the sound of the recorders being destroyed in the background. Followed by that was the sound of what he assumed was the boy dragging his recorder to safety; all he heard was scratching.

Then... the most interesting piece of information. He finally got to hear the boy speak.

There was another male—he assumed the Doctor— in the room with him and despite their voices whispered and disembodied he was able to make out part of their conversation when he increased the audio

... _'bad... caught...'_

Then the boy spoke... _'I know...' _his voice was tentative and frightened.

Then about another fifteen minutes he heard another sentence from the boy... _'Mr... Albee...' _

Rumble had been educated by movies about human names and how they address one another os he knew what the sentence meant but it still confused him. Who was Mr. Albee? Was it the kid? Was it the Italian doctor's name? Was it the name of the kid's parents? Was it the name of the doctor's parents? Was it some random human he didn't know about? Or... was it the ghost's name?

That was all he got out of the tape and frankly it disappointed him, he had hoped for something more helpful; all he found was more confusion.

Who was Mr. Albee and why was Starscream aiding the ghost?

Well he didn't know about Starscream, Soundwave would have to deal with that— Frenzy was his priority.

He pressed the pause button and pushed the rewind on the tape.

Rumble stood and turned on his heel, his destination Soundwave's quarters.

Perhaps the Ghost Hunter would have better luck deciphering the tape than he did.

He hoped.

* * *

It was ironic despite how terrible something was given enough time even it could become the norm.

No activity.

There had been no account of a single paranormal incident throughout the base for nearly an Earth week and frankly that didn't help to rid the anxiety, it actually made the tension in the base far worse.

Paranoia had become their new tenant.

What was happening? Was there a reason why the base had grown so quiet? Was the ghost planning something diabolical? More diabolical than usual?

Their duties were carried out when they left their rooms but as soon as they finished they returned back to their quarters. Word had already spread around the base that Breakdown and Starscream had abandoned ship— the news predictably making the Decepticon Commander furious. He saw it nothing more than cowardice and arrogance; two personality traits he personally hated. Though some of the Cons couldn't say that they had like feelings...

The Cons envied Breakdown, Starscream the Triple Changers and Reflector; they got the privilege of taking a vacation away from the base. However brief it may be.

The base had definitely become an emporium of every negative feeling.

However they didn't know how fortunate they were...

For Soundwave the disappearance spelled trouble; it was so erratic that the ghost had become so quiet— it concerned him. The overbearing presence he had felt from the ghost before was so potent that now it was nearly non-existent, as if he was not in the base at all.

It sent up a warning, so much that he went searching for the entity around the base. He searched but he could not find it's energy…

But he did feel something… it was the same small presence he had felt before but could never find. The more time Soundwave felt it he began to see how different it was. The energies were essentially the same but radically dissimilar at the same time; the energy was never as powerful or suffocating as the entity's, they were always just... present. The aura wasn't as negative as the entity's either. It always felt... somber.

He wasn't sure what it was but he would keep searching, his curiosity had awakened and he wanted to find out what or who it was.

* * *

The scenery had changed but the feeling of the building was as foreboding as he remembered it.

The bar stood before them abandoned and desolate as the ghetto, the new coat of paint the owner had put on was beginning to fade and darken. The neon sign was broken and grey and only a couple of buildings nearby had lights on, some of the neighbors choosing to remain inside after seeing the Decepticon insignias.

The windows of the establishment stared at him like eyes of a monster, almost daring him to venture through the door once again.

"I'll go in, you wait here," Astrotrain said, his optics focused on the dark opening in front of him.

"I thought you wanted proof?" questioned Reflector, turning to the Triple-Changer.

"I don't think a picture will matter. Trust me... if he _is _in there, I think he will come out when he sees me," Astrotrain said, "I've been there plenty of times; I'm a regular."

Reflector didn't question him, instead the three bots watched as he slowly marched inside the building, the dark door enveloping him as he crossed the threshold of the haunted house.

Astrotrain stopped when he reached the inside, the tables and chairs of the bar overturned and already collecting rust. The bar was abandoned, the shelves empty from drifters looking for a release. His optics fell on the stairs and with a heavy sigh...

He marched up them, his steps slow and measured as listened to them groan from under his weight. The house seemed to echo, as if sharing it's pain from the years, baring his history to him like a warning of why he shouldn't be in the house.

He continued to march, reaching the second level and wandered the halls until he found the room he was looking for. He was suprised to see furnature in the room, compltetly organized and not a single layer of dust. Perhaps the ghost kept his room tidy...

It was his first time looking at the fabled berth by the window that Oversight was said to push intruders off of and the feeling was incredibly eerie, it was like looking upon a trap; he knew what to expect but he had no other way around it.

He dimmed his optics and approached...

It was his turn to trip the legend.

He walked over to the berth, offlined his optics, sat down and waited.

* * *

Rumble stared at the recorder in his hands, shifting the weight back and forth in his palm in disappointment. His optics flickered back to the empty message board he used to contact his Ghost Hunter.

Nothing.

He had sent the recording nearly a week ago and hadn't received word back on his findings, it was starting to aggravate him.

The most the Ghost Hunter had taken to reply was a day or two, he had always answered him, now it seemed like he was ignoring his persistent e-mails. He was sending them nearly everyday now and he had yet to receive and answer. What? Did his Ghost Hunter die or something?

He was getting tired of waiting, especially since he was the only one he could discuss the recording with.

He didn't show the recording to Soundwave— he couldn't.

Even if he showed Soundwave that Starscream was up to something Soundwave would have interrogated him of why he was using recording devices to capture the voices of the ghost. He would have to lie and he had never been able to lie to his creator successfully. He knew Soundwave would tell him to stop using fleshie tactics...

It angered Rumble that he couldn't share anything with Soundwave, he was angered that Soundwave wasn't willing to try anything necessary.

If Rumble told Soundwave that he was using human tactics then he would lose his only possible chance of saving Frenzy.

He couldn't tell him until Soundwave was willing to hear.

Rumble's optics flickered back to the recorder. He didn't like it one bit. Starscream and the entity were up to something. Rumble had also noticed that the base seemed to shine a little brighter but it wasn't the only development. Frenzy had not spoken a word; he had remained unconscious nearly the entire week. He didn't know if that was a good thing or bad thing, but nevertheless it worried him.

Why was the entity so quiet all of a sudden?

Why was his Ghost Hunter quiet all of a sudden?

Why were the other ghosts quiet all of a sudden?

He had tried recording every recharge cycle and he didn't hear a peep. Rumble didn't like the silence, it was unsettling and out of the ordinary. It felt as if the angry ghost wasn't there at all, as if they had all just packed up and moved.

Despite how much he wished that to be the case, he couldn't see that as a good thing since they had done nothing to get the ghost to run. So where was everyone?

Rumble stared at his blank inbox and finally felt his frustration get the better of him...

Frag his Ghost Hunter.

He knew he was instructed not to search for the children or the Doctor, but if anyone knew anything about the entity controlling Frenzy or what was happening it would be them.

A shiver of fear rushed through him. He didn't want to go look for them, he felt weary going to look for them.

But he had to.

He needed to.

* * *

The Reflector triplets sat on separate boxes against the wall of the house across the street, Spyglass and Spectro on both sides of Viewfinder and leaning on his shoulders, all three of them offline and recharging. Astrotrain had not come out of the Oversight's house yet and the time bored them that they eventually all fell asleep.

When Astrotrain did come out of the house, he was glad that they were recharging so they couldn't see the petrified look on his face. He stumbled hasitfully out of the house, tripping over himself and backing away.

He ran his hands over the front of his helm to the back of his neck. He was absolutely stunned, he could not believe the results he had gotten from his experiment— it was completely the opposite of what he had expected and that made his more fearful...

He now had no idea what was lurking in the Nemesis, but whatever it was it was very smart.

Astrotrain turned to see Reflector recharging. He marched over and gave the middle triplet a hard shake, awakening him and the others.

Their optics blinked lazily, trying to adjust. "What?" they echoed.

"We need to get back to the Nemesis, there's something in our base and it isn't Oversight," he said, haste clearly in his vocals.

Their attention was caught and they immediately rose to their feet. "How do you know?"

"Because he didn't like me being there," Astrotrain explained, turning to look back at the building. "If he is here... then who's in the base?"

* * *

Breakdown's tires were beginning to wear down as he drove in solitude in the barren desert that Route 66 cut through. The sun already beginning to set on his 7th or 8th day away from the base... possibly his last day of freedom.

Now that Breakdown knew what dwelt within the base, he felt no intention of returning to the Nemesis— not after what Kickback had explained to him what the entity really was. He had never believed in human superstitions or folklore and had assumed the entire time it was an evil Cybertronian spirit but everything that he had told Kickback about the Bug-Con was able to back-up with examples of his own theory.

He had explained it so clearly that Breakdown couldn't help but agree with the Insecticon, after all when he truly let the information sink in he couldn't ignore the similarities the ghost in the Nemesis possessed with Kickback's theory. It all just... _clicked._

Kickback explained more to him what it was and what it could do— that caused Breakdown to become very fearful for the others.

It was not going to stop. It was not going to stop until every single one of them was a ghost themselves and even then the nightmare wouldn't stop with death. Breakdown not knew what the ghost wanted and why it was there...

But he couldn't go back and warn them. What if it came after him if he went back? It would attack him. He knew it would come after him— especially now that he knew what it was.

The only thing he couldn't figure out was how it was so strong (neither did Kickback). If it was a human thing, no matter how bad, how was it able to lift them off the ground, hit them, attack them, scare them? How was it so powerful?

The unpredictability of the entity's strength was what scared Breakdown to the core and it was the main reason he refused to go back.

However there was another feeling that was pressuring him to forget his personal fear. He felt guilty. He knew what it was and he was too scared to go back and tell the others. He knew that they probably wouldn't believe him but if he didn't tell someone it would forever eat at his conscious that he did nothing and let the thing continue to hurt them.

There was also a twinge of vengeful feelings in his circuitry that was making him consider going back.

After Kickback told them the range of talents the type of ghost possessed, he finally realized that it had imitated Dead End to scare him. Dead End didn't attack him— he would never attack him like that. He had let his fear blind him and he felt ashamed. He wanted to get back at the entity by getting back with Dead End and spilling the beans of what type of ghost it really was.

Suddenly his comm. beeped.

**((Breakdown acknowledge.))**

Breakdown groaned inwardly at the voice. **((H-Here.))**

**((Megatron demands your presence at the base at once.))**

Breakdown felt a chill, he wasn't sure why or what had caused it but he felt as if he was being watched by something very malignant; it such a uncomfortable feeling that he swerved slightly on the road, it was only when he felt earth crunching beneath his tires did he get his focus back. He sighed inwardly... looks like he had no choice to return back to the base. Megatron had made up his decision.

**((Where are you?))**

**((Above you dolt, where do you think? Transform and use your anti-gravity.))**

**((Ok, Breakdown out.))**

**((Starscream out.))**

* * *

Rumble stood in the middle of the Energon Storage Room in complete and utter anxiousness. For so long he hated seeing the ghosts and dreaded seeing them, now he was searching for them. He didn't know if it would accomplish anything but he had a heavy feeling in his spark that something bad was going to happen— everytime he had seen them something got worse in the base.

However he was willing to give it a shot, he had to try and make an effort and if he had to contact them then he would. Perhaps they knew something and if they did he wanted to know to.

Still... he never felt so stupid.

"I have no idea wha' I'm doin'," he began, his voice quivering in awkwardness. "But... if ya here... I need ta know wha' it is..."

No response. He lowered his head slightly.

"Please kid... if ya know wha' he is. Tell me..."

Nothing.

Rumble felt something stab him in the spark as he ran his hands over his face in despair. Hopelessness, that's what had invaded his spark.

"Please answa' me!"

The silence hit him like a wrecking ball. They weren't going to answer him. They were going to let him suffer.

He had nothing. He was completely and totally ignorant. Rumble's back hit the back of the energon cubes and he slid down them slowly, an emptiness enveloping him. His aft hit the ground but he barely noticed, the pain in his spark dominated all of his senses. He felt like a blind-mech being ridiculed by a group of cynical regulars. He felt the world against him...

The lights flickered above him. Fright and dread hit him immediately. It was the worst topping on his already overflowing pile of emotions he could have pictured.

_No... _

There was no doubt in his processor.

Wherever the entity went, it was back again.

* * *

Breakdown couldn't hide the expression on his face; he was absolutely uncomfortable in Starscream presence as he walked through the corridors of the Nemesis, following behind Starscream as he lead him to where Megatron was. It wasn't the fact of that he would be facing a probably unhappy Megatron, no he couldn't even identify what was making him upset.

It was something about Starscream, he wasn't sure what but he received a very bad vibe coming from him. He seemed his usual bastard self, but he was dead certain that there was something very wrong.

Perhaps he was just nervous about being back in the base. Perhaps there was nothing wrong; perhaps his feelings were getting to him.

Whatever it was, his spark got tighter and tighter, as if it was being crushed by invisible hands.

Starscream stopped at one of the storage rooms and opened the door, a hand lifting as if to say _'go right in.'_ Breakdown stood still, his feet seemingly welded to the floor._ Why would Megatron be in there?_ There was something very wrong, something within him screamed it. He didn't want to be here, he wanted to leave— he wanted to leave _now_.

Starscream's optics pierced Breakdown like laser scalpels. They were incredibly intimidating... but they were still Starscream. He was annoyed, that's all that expression was.

Against his instincts Breakdown took a step forward and peeked inside the storage room.

To his utter surprise Megatron was there, an inventory data-pad in his hand and his back towards Breakdown. Despite still feeling very suspicious and anxious, it seemed to be Megatron; his body language was normal of his Commander and he didn't feel anything negative coming from his frame. He took a step inside the storage room, Starscream following and closing the door behind him.

Breakdown sighed slightly, straightened his posture and lifted his head, a soldier's disposition on his face.

The data-pad dropped to his side and his posture straightened in an abnormal manner for the Commander— it was incredibly stiff. Warning alarms immediately rang through Breakdown's form and he felt his circuitry overheat rapidly.

"So the bug informed you, did he?" Megatron's voice echoed eerily over the room. "That's unfortunate for you."

Breakdown's optics widened, numbness taking over his body and paralyzing him. _Not again! Not again! Not again! Not again!_

Megatron turned to face the frightened Stunticon. The face that Breakdown looked at was one of déjà vu... his face was completely blank— just like Dead End's when he was attacked.

_No!_

Breakdown turned, trying to flee. Unfortunately he found a face more terrifying than the charade. Starscream stared at him, approaching him little by little with the expression of a deadly stranger. Starscream had an arsenal of violent expressions he used for his enemies and friends in the past, but this one surpassed them all.

All familiarity in his optics were gone, his smile was of malicious anticipation. Breakdown panicked and stared to back away from the Seeker. Whoever he was, it was not Starscream. Starscream was gone, as if something was possessing him.

The entire scene was happening in slow-motion and he just wanted it to end, he wanted it to be over, however time continued to move mercilessly slow and agonizing. He watched Starscream's arm raise and could almost see the bright flash expand slowly like watching a slid-show. He felt pain hit him in the chassis and his back hit the ground hard.

Starscream had shot him with his null ray. He could make out the fuzzy visage of the ceiling above him and an approaching figure come into view, look down at him and tilt his head in mock sympathy.

"Sorry Breakdown, but I need a retro-rat to practice," was Starscream's fake apology, a smirk pulling on his face. "Nothing personal."

* * *

Rumble stalked back to his quarters, his feet feeling like heavy anvils as they clunked against the surface of the floor lazily. He never should have tried to contact the other ghosts; all he got was spark-ache from trying. Nothing was happening; there was no progress, nothing to show for his work he put in so far. What was he going to do? Nothing was helping.

When was he going to get a reward, when was he going to receive a useful sign?

When he reached Soundwave's quarters he found it to be empty.

Bitterly he worked his way up to Soundwave's computer and logged into his human account.

Elation suddenly engulfed his spark. Never did he think he would be so excited over a human sending him an e-mail. He felt jittery and he couldn't control his suddenly hyper systems. It was an e-mail he had been waiting for...

His face numbed in horror when he saw the message the human sent him, it was definitely an e-mail he didn't expect.

**I know what you are.  
Find another ghost hunter.  
**

**P.S: It's a demon. Have fun.**

* * *

**A/N:** Woo-hoo 15 chapters later and you finally know what type of entity it is! :P With that being said sorry about the "cliff-hanger-ish ending" but I thought it was a good place to leave it at since it's been awhile since I gave you an update. Sorry. This month has been quite a 'Shit-tember' so I apologize if I didn't do my usual review-reply for some of you. I always mean to but I've been very bad about it lately- sorry! :(

I also promise that the next chapter will have more dialouge in it as we start Act III of the story. :)

Hoped you liked the chapter and see you next time. :)


	16. The Human Realm

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 16**

**"The Human Realm"**

**

* * *

**

Soundwave entered Megatron's quarters with dread; there was nothing to report and he wasn't looking forward to facing the Decepticon leader's wrath when he would have to tell him that he _still_ had nothing. He had combed every inch of the Cybertronian archives and found no solution.

"Blitzwing has requested to return," Soundwave began, addressing Megatron's back as his leader glanced at the passing aquatic life outside his window. "However Starscream still remains missing."

Megatron knew of Starscream's abandonment from the base and was furious. He knew Starscream was selfishly independent but he still liked having control over the stubborn mech. Starscream had ignored protocol and did not seek his permission to leave the base—it was an act of insubordination and it would not go unpunished.

His optics narrowed disdainfully…

Megatron wanted to keep the situation contained and solved within the secret walls of the Nemesis and away from the optics of outside interference.

He couldn't help but let a soft scoff escape him at the thought of what would happen if his Autobot foes found out about this ridiculous incident. He knew the Autobots were more superstitious than his soldiers but just the thought of them finding out would be unbearably embarrassing. Despite the dangers his chatty Air Commander posed, Megatron knew that even Starscream wouldn't tattle-tell; he was still part of the Decepticon force and the thought of the Autobots finding out about their ghost would embarrass him as well.

"Tell him he can stop looking and return to headquarters," Megatron ordered, "Starscream still remains a priority but I'll deal with him when he does decide to show up. Have you found out anything about our _friend_?"

Soundwave paused before he answered, "Still searching—nothing further to add."

Megatron turned away from the window, his optics narrowed in disapproval, "Well keep searching, I want this _thing_ out of my base. I want order restored."

Megatron's optics drifted over the room for a moment, an idea forming. "Perhaps the time has come to see if Teletrann I has any information," he said, turning to face his Third-in-Command, "Go see what Prime's computer knows. Assemble a team if you need to. Do whatever is necessary and be thorough. If there is information I want it."

"As you command Megatron," Soundwave turned.

"And Soundwave?"

Soundwave turned and looked over his shoulder, already set to exit Megatron's quarters.

"Don't get caught," Megatron told him, a dangerous warning glinting in his optics that stabbed his Communications Officer.

Soundwave nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

Megatron turned back to his window, his hands clasped behind his back as he resumed staring at the organic world. A deep sigh rumbled from him as he stared at his reflection, feeling aggravated.

Something dropped to his left. His optics squinting in confusion he turned to see an unimportant instrument had rolled off his desk. Megatron narrowed his optics in annoyance as he groaned tiredly.

* * *

Soundwave walked the halls to his quarters, each hall basked in ominous light from the dull bulbs. The Cons remained in their rooms, unwilling to come out; fearing the ghost was stalking the corridors like the warden of a prison.

Soundwave felt the aura too— it was the only aura he felt in the base; the strong, negative and suffocating fog that weighed heavy on the senses. It made him dizzy, he didn't know if it was personal feelings or creeping paranoia that was affecting his logic but he did know that it was the ghost operating the fog machine. Whichever it was, he did his best to ignore it and be as rational as possible.

He had to be rational during this irrational time.

Although it was a speck of hope, Soundwave would try the Autobot's computer, despite his personal skepticism that the Autobots had any information. Regardless of his feeling, he couldn't help but feel a small amount of weight lifted off his shoulders; he still had a chance to gather information and any information, no matter how minimal, could prove helpful.

He entered his quarters, his frame immediately hit with claustrophobia. He ignored it and entered, noticing that Ravage was approaching him with slight reluctance. Soundwave could immediately sense something on his creation's mind.

_"Rumble has left and he won't answer my calls," _Ravage informed him. A scowl forming on the cat's face.

Soundwave's optics narrowed minutely in confusion behind visor. He opened the link, displeased that Rumble had also decided to leave the base without authorization.

_"Rumble acknowledge," _he called.

Immediately he felt Rumble's conviction through the link; he wanted to answer but something was holding him back.

_"Acknowledge now Rumble and return to headquarters," _Soundwave addressed with a more forceful tone.

Rumble answered back, knowing that he couldn't deny Soundwave an answer,_ "Boss... trus' me. I'll be back but I gotta do this... it's for Frenzy..."_

_"Specify 'this'," _demanded Soundwave, his optics narrowing.

Rumble didn't answer him and ignored the rest of his calls—Soundwave didn't like it. He turned to Ravage, "Bring him back."

Ravage nodded and left, his pace slow as he exited. Soundwave glanced over his room to see his other cassettes absent, perhaps also looking for Rumble in the base. He didn't bother calling them; they would give up and return.

Soundwave's feet guided him to his berth. He sat down, allowing himself to slack his posture. He sat there in silence for a long time, crafting ideas and then assessing them to see if they were workable. A routine he did nearly every cycle and none of them were really worth the greenlight.

An indicator light displayed across him visor, telling him that a night of recharge was needed for his overworked systems. He couldn't even remember the last time he had a full recharge cycle; his systems seemed to lack the motivation to get sleep and were driven by another motivation—the one that wanted to get Frenzy back under control.

He still had nothing to go on and it frustrated him. Never had he met a foe with no discernable weaknesses— and it never missed an opportunity to gloat about it.

He felt a twinge of energy run from his fingertips and up his arm like a soft caress. It was that same unidentifiable energy he could never find. His head lifted his attention fully alert.

It was in his quarters.

Soundwave's head drifted slowly towards his closet door when he heard Frenzy's deepened voice through the wall.

He stood and approached his quarter doors, his steps silent as he crept closer to try and catch what the entity was saying.

The only thing he could make out was _'place'_ before the entity silenced himself, possibly sensing someone else on the other side of the door.

Soundwave felt the other energy evaporate and disappear, it was then he entered the closet.

Frenzy was offline; his systems running as if he was still in a recharge cycle. The entity was trying to be deceptive— he knew he heard it talking. However Soundwave wasn't in the mood for it's taunts or useless banter. Besides he had a better idea than interrogating the entity.

He exited his quarters and closed the door behind him. Soundwave walked, a conclusion suddenly hitting him. It didn't register until now— now that he heard the entity speaking to the other energy.

The energy was another ghost and perhaps it had answers.

All he had to do was find it.

When he heard the doors close, 'Frenzy' head lifted, an unpleased smile upon his face as his optics narrowed. His head slowly turned to the spirits standing to the side in a perfect line shoulder to shoulder, all intimidated by his stare as his attentions were once again directed back to them.

* * *

Perhaps the holographic disguise was the most conspicuous when it came to blending in with the other fleshies, but it was best he could do to hide his _build_.

He ignored the double-takes and puzzled expressions they gave him as he passed by. To them all they saw was a twenty-something 6 ft caucasian bodybuilder wearing blue jeans and a navy blue muscle tee, however if they saw what lay underneath the covers they would be giving him another expression.

Nevertheless, he didn't care what the fleshies thought, he thought the disguise was pretty good so slag 'em! Besides at this moment he could care less about fitting in; all he cared about was getting to the address displayed on the map in his visor— disguised cleverly as large aviator sunglasses.

Even for a relatively small human settlement like St. Augustine, Florida, it was crowded with fleshies up and down the old, brick streets of the curious district were gullible tourists could buy souvenirs they didn't need. Palm trees and other spiky bushed plants provided little shade and relief from the heat wave that had hit the aquatic and historic town. The pasty, obese tourists bounced by him like blobs of sunburned meat slick with sweat, making him pull a disgusted face on his fleshie face as he passed by them.

His internal fans worked to cool his circuitry and form as they quickly heated up under the sun, the high humidity of the region not helping him as it as hot air was the only air he was getting to circulate through his systems; it would take awhile for his systems to convert it to a cooler temperature. Nevertheless his systems would have been in a heat overload even without the aid heat wave...

After staringly dumbly at the email the human had sent him for nearly a half-hour, a small spark of rage grew… and grew… and grew… until he finally snapped.

How dare that fraggin' fleshie say _'no' _to him! He was a_ Con_! _He_ gave the orders not the human!

It had been fun and convenient before, pretending to be a human and chit-chat with him for advice, now things would become inconvenient and uncomfortable for the human—Rumble was going to get info wiehter the human wanted to give it to him or not. No more mister nice Con...

One thing did puzzle him though…

What _exactly_ did he mean by _'I know what you are?' _

Rumble took the most literal translation of it and assumed the human had found out that he was a Deceptcion, got repulsed and decided to cut his ties with him. Or did it mean something else? Some stupid fleshie metaphor that Rumble would never understand?

He assumed the literal translation and if that was the case... how? _How_ did he find out? He was technologically superior to the human and there would have been no way that he could have found out through cyberspace. Unless, by some miracle he _did_…? _Nah!_

There was also another theory...

The absence of the demon in the base could have meant that he somehow got out, found Lancaster and scared him. By why would the demon go through all that trouble just to get one insignificant human ghost hunter out of the way? Was there something about the human that would have aided him in getting rid of the demon? He did mention that he read over his shoulder about the human on the website... was there a detail in the paragraphs that freaked it out?

If there was, then finding the human wouldn't be a waste of time and if he did already meet the demon, then perhaps he could tell him more. Plus he wanted to get revenge for making Rumble wait and then slamming the door in his face.

Rumble smirked.

Yep. The human was screwed.

* * *

After miles of tiresome walking he finally found himself in the quiet, modest neighborhood, tucked and hidden away from the louder districts by the Spanish mosses that acted like a border between the residents and tourists.

The sidewalks also changed, forming into more modern construction, they were still narrow but nonetheless different from the busier tourists' spots were the original, colonial construction remained intact.

Rumble's holographic eyes glanced over at the other houses in the neighborhood, quirking a blonde eyebrow. Varella Ave. seemed abandoned; none of the residents seeming to be home, not even the white mobile baptist church across the street seemed active. Rumble didn't mind; the less stares the better. His navigation systems beeped, he had arrived at the fleshie's dwelling.

The house was a small, white one story home, decent and cozy enough for a single human to live comfortably in. Overall, Rumble couldn't see anything wrong with the exterior except that the vehicle (which he knew all humans had) was missing from the short, freshly asphalted driveway. Rumble checked his location, making sure he had the right address.

Yep. 29 54' 38 N/ 81 20' 23 W, it was the place...

Rumble's head turned when he heard a car approaching, he stepped back, allowing the 1980's grey BMW pull up into the driveway, the senoir driver giving him a fleeting glance as he passed by.

Rumble's holographic human stared at the human in the car like a cyberhawk, it wasn't John Lancaster, but he did know who he was.

On the website there were pictures of the ghost hunting team— John was the only one who replied to him— and he did remember seeing the face of the man in the car.

His name was Dr. Lyman Kelly and although he wasn't a member of the team he was a special contact that they used on cases when religious slag was needed... that was all he remembered from skimming the webpage.

The car door opened and he stepped out, his stern, glacial blue eyes immediately locked on Rumble, looking him up and down in almost a curious but scrutinizing manner. The fifty-year old gentleman was shorter than the average male with crows feet and grey hair trying to dominate the darker locks. His lips stayed in a straight line, his grey moustache still over his lip and his demeanor one of a stern school teacher.

He closed the door and continued to assess him. Rumble didn't like the way he stared at him. For a minute he had a suspicion that the fleshie could see straight through his holographic disguise.

Nevertheless he approached him, his hand reaching across to roll up an individual sleeve of his white button shirt, neatly tucked into black dress pants.

He nodded once, acknowledging him. "Hello," he greeted his voice like a one of a 18th century Bostonian congressman.

"Hey," Rumble greeted, pulling his holographic lips into a fake charismatic smile. "Name's Ron— I'm a frien' of John."

Dr. Kelly nodded, "Ah..."

He suddenly coughed uncomfortably, his face contorting slightly into a disgusted face as if he had caught the whiff of something odd, he rubbed his hand over his nose, his fingers tightening over his nostrils before he regained himself and turned back to him, "Excuse me, my allergies seem to be coming back for an encore. Pleased to meet you, I am Lyman Kelly. I am _also_ a friend of John's."

"Oh ya, Lyman Kelly, He's told me so much about ya," Rumble lied, the scanners in his optics shifting from left to right.

"Does he? That's… interesting of him," Lyman answered, his eyes staring at the pavement, a subtle befuddled look on his face. He turned back to Rumble,"And how by chance, do you know John?" His nostrils flared slightly.

"Oh, yeah…" Rumble shrugged, "John helped me with some ghost stuff awhile back. We're goo' buddies now. I'm jus' droppin' by ta' say 'hi'."

Lyman nodded softly, "Ghost stuff..." he echoed back, raising an eyebrow.

"Ya', ghost stuff," 'Ronald' replied, smiling lightly, "My house was haunted an' he helped me get rid of the spookie."

Lyman blinked his eyes dubiously and replied, "Well, I'm pleased to hear that John helped you rid your home of a bothersome entity. It wasn't a powerful and negative entity I hope?" His eyes hardened slightly and Rumble couldn't help but feel he as if he was being interrogated.

Rumble's face twisted slightly, unsure how much he should tell the fleshie who was getting on his circuits. "Yeah, it was bad, but luckily I foun' John and he helped me get rid of the problem."

Lyman pursed his lips, nodding in understanding, "Yes... he's does certainly have a remarkable gift with helping people," Lyman looked down at his fingers, his palm enclosed as he ran the tips of his fingers over with his thumb, "Shame, that he has moved into a... personal retirement so to speak."

Rumble smirked, chuckling softly and said, "Well, maybe he'll get his inspiration back."

Lyman nodded again, this time semi-uncomfortably, his eyes once again roaming over Rumble's holographic disguise with suspicion. Rumble was starting to speculate whether he was going to have to kill him or not.

Nevertheless, Lyman seemed to snap out of it, regained his composure and glanced at John's door. He sighed, tiredly, "Well if he is not here I'll call on him another day," he said, almost as if he was talking to himself. He turned back to Rumble, mustering a fast an awkward smile and extended his hand to him, "Pleasant meeting you."

Rumble stared at the human's hand waiting for his, Rumble took a step back, gave a forced and friendly nod, "Ya' too." Rumble turned to walk down the path he came.

Lyman turned to approach his car but stopped and turned, "Oh and, uh, Ronald?"

Rumble turned to look at him, waiting.

A half humored and half concerned expression covered his face, wondering if he should be giving him his opinion or not, "Please don't take this the wrong way, it's only a suggestion, but good God man your shirt is crying"— Lyman raised a pacifistic hand, his face growing benevolent— "just a kind suggestion." He flashed a departing and uncomfortable smile and approached his car, his eyes widening slightly. _"Intresting individual..."_ he thought to himself.

Rumble stared at him in confusion, he knew it was an insult of some sort but he really didn't get it— it confused the slag out of him. Instead he nodded and turned, his optics widening in discomfort as he walked away, " 'Kay, thanks..." he called behind him. "_Fraggin' weirdo..." _Rumble thought to himself.

Rumble walked away from the house and down the sidewalk, anger for a new alien life-form (this time for an alive alien-life form) settling into his spark. He glanced back over at the human as he pulled out of the driveway slowly, turned the wheel and drove off, the license plate to Rumble.

Rumble collected the data on the license plate and stored it into his processor. The way that the human acted towards him was starting to make him wonder if he was going to have to track him down later as well, the human certainly gave him enough reason to.

Rumble did not like the way he stared at him. There was something very unsettling about the way he had looked at him... analyzing him with those squishy orbs. Rumble knew it was stupid, but he couldn't help but feel like the fleshie knew what he was.

He decided to let the human slide for now— he had no proof.

He would continue with his first objective—later when all there was darkness on the street and no other distractions.

* * *

Soundwave once again found himself at the same place that his searches would lead him— the Energon Storage Room. He didn't believe in coincidence and knew that there was a reason why he was drawn to this particular part of the base. Besides his room which held the entity in his closet, this place was infested with the most negative energy.

As he stood in the bright room, the light and dark aura encompassing his frame, he started to feel the ghost's energy once again run up his fingertips, up his arm and through his frame. He could definitely feel he/she/it now more clearly now that he had an idea of what he had been feeling in the base.

However he still found it odd that there would be another presence in the base; he figured it was just the one negative spirit. His skepticism needed to be tested.

"Make yourself known," his computerized voice ordered, echoing about the Energon Storage Room.

The only sound he heard was the deafening humming of the energon cubes, his audio worked to isolate the noise and mute it. He heard silence and he listened, turning his advanced audio receptors up so he could catch the most hesitant whisper.

"Make yourself known—_NOW_."

Infinite time stretched on as he stood there stubbornly, waiting for a response. He would not budge until his theory was undeniably proved or disproved, a lot rested on it.

Footsteps approached, he heard their faint tapping across the metal floor as clear as day and even though he expected a noise of some sort, he did not expect an apparition.

The owner of the feet walked from behind the wall of energon cubes he had been hiding behind and approached the giant robot. Soundwave was slightly taken back at how realistically the ghost presented himself. He was a perfect manifestation, completely solid, almost as if the human wasn't dead at all.

The eyes behind the rounded glasses stared up at him, his face full of selfish regret, as if he was taking a huge risk presenting himself to Soundwave.

_"It takes a tremendous amount of effort to present myself to you so I will make this quick," _he began in his native tongue; Soundwave translated the Italian's words with no difficulty.

His eyes hardened and he said, "_I do not want to be your brethren. So seek information outside of your comfort and you will be rid of us. Do not contact us again." _

With that the Doctor turned a cold shoulder to Soundwave and disintegrated into nothing.

Soundwave also turned, retreating back to his quarters with the human's words in his head.

* * *

Something hard and small hit the side of Rumble's head as he walked back up the street to John's house, making him flinch in reaction. Rumble's optics scanned the air, finding his suspicions were correct.

A terrestrial bug, _cockroach_, had hit him. They were everywhere, flying through the humid darkness. He wasn't the biggest fan of them but they were unimportant. What was important were any clues to John's whereabouts.

Rumble, still in his disguise besides the humans in their houses recharging, approached the house, crossing the steadily growing lawn and approached the front door and stepped onto the concrete landing.

Rumble's aviator glasses drifted to his right hand which formed into a powerful drill tip. His head turned from side to side, making sure that the other neighbors lights were still off and placed the tip into the keyhole.

Metal and metal grinded bitterly against each other for a moment until the door swung open. Rumble transformed his arm back and entered the house, flipping on the light switch by the door.

A glass shelf that held breakable trinkets and pictures was the first thing he noticed in the middle of the wooden floor of the living room, glass scattered like hazardous puzzle pieces over the fake Brazilian cherry. Pictures were disturbed, barely hanging on their hooks on the walls that went into the hallway to his right.

Rumble walked in more, noticing the kitchen to his immediate right had cabinets open and utensils spilled over the table top. The place looked like it had taken a beating from his pile drivers…

Rumble continued to enter the house and glanced over to his right, his optics landing on the couch. Running horizontally were three parallel lines slashed along the top from end-to-end, the stuffing protruding out of the old beige furniture.

Rumble didn't know what to make of it and moved along, his optics landing on an upside-down wooden cross hanging on the ivory walls of the house.

Rumble moved along, opening the white door in front of him. Coats, shoes and cleaning equipment occupied the space; Rumble noticed that the coat hangers in the middle were empty. He closed the door and continued his investigation.

He moved down the carpeted hall, passing by doors on the way down and checking them. First he located the bathroom, nothing to note. Next, another closet— also nothing.

As he moved along, his attention fell on the pictures and the people he recognized. Most of them consisted of family portraits and one of his ghost hunting team. He stopped to take a closer look at it. The members of his team were there he recognized them from the website. The five investigators, four males and one female were standing in front of a red and white lighthouse, all posing for a group picture.

He recognized John in the back, his arm wrapped around another comrade, his comrade also returning the gesture. He recognized the other male, Henry Lee, the video tech, but the reason why Rumble stopped was he couldn't help but notice how happy the two where, the others were posing but they beamed to be the friends out of the picture. He took note of that, especially how unhappy the other team members seemed in the shot—John and Henry were the odd couple.

Rumble moved on, wondering if there was an importance.

His hand turned the knob on another door and opened it. He found a child's room, the pink furniture indicating that it belonged to a little femme. The sheets on the bed were disturbed and so were the drawers and closet door. Clothes lay littered on the floor, wrinkled from neglect. He also noticed the light was on. Rumble looked at the light switch and shrugged, closing the door behind him.

He moved on and approached the door at the end of the hall. He turned the knob and entered John's personal space.

A bed against a crimson wall greeted him, empty and neat except for the disturbed sheets. His optics fell upon the wooden shelf next to the sliding mirror closet; upon them were shelves of books varying from fiction to religious texts. His interest was captured on the shelf below it, placed side to side were relics from various religious denominations.

He arched a brow and proceeded to the other side of the room, passing by the bathroom door where the lights were also on and approached the messy computer desk. He went through the documents, taking information from his monthly bills until his optics fell upon his human name on a yellow notepad.

_**Client- Ronald**_  
_**Haunting**__**- Negative, possible demonic affliction (Attachment/intelligent haunting). **_  
_**Location**__**- Fraternity house (Didn't say exact location) BETA-GAMA-BEATA-ALPHA-OMEGA-WHATEVER…**_

_**-EVP**_  
_**-Piety of spirit **_  
_**-Give contact info—(Yvette? Lyman? Lorraine? Micheal?)**_

_**Victim**__**- Brother "Fred". Possibly strong demonic affliction or possession.  
**_

_**Ronald- **__**Vulnerable**__**/Fred= lightning rod.  
**_

_**No other reports of possession in other Fraternity members.**_

_**Seen apparitions of children, most likely disguises to lure- need EVP to confirm. EVP authentic might point to possible suppression by higher entity. (Wilcox)**_

_**Strong possibility that it's a Demon**_

_**(REMEMBER) Lyman needs to pick up kit. Pick up Holly at 4:45 from the witch.**_

Rumble tapped his fingers against the yellow notepad, letting the new information sink in. He had minimal knowledge about this paranormal slag and didn't get some of the things the human had put down, like an archaeologist trying to understand a new fossil.

_Piety of the spirit?_ What the slag did that mean?

_Intelligent haunting?_ Ya okay the slagging demon was smart but Rumble didn't think that's what John meant, probably some stupid terminology.

Then one thing that really confused him was_ 'Wilcox'_. It sounded like a fleshie name but, who knew maybe it was some other terminology.

Rumble moved onto the computer for more information. He switched it on and hacked into it with no difficulty, breaking through the password page and into the main page. He sighed impatiently, tapping his feet against the carpet. He hated how slagging slow fleshie technology was.

He closed down the pop-ups and let the email page automatically sign-in to John's account.

Rumble went through his contacts, taking note of the short list and thinking that if the fleshie would run, his friends where were he would seek help. He reached the end of the list and smirked slightly at his human account— offline— at the bottom of the messenger list.

He hacked into various social networks and continued taking information from John's colleagues... he was going to find the fleshie and he was going to make sure he had enough information to do so.

He would start with the fleshie's friends and interrogate them— if the fleshie really did know what he was he would be running scared. And when animals ran scared, they always ran to places that were the most comfortable for them— for fleshies, a social animal, it would be the ones he was close with.

The computer beeped and pulled Rumble from his computer work. His optics widened minutely, feeling confused and horrified to see that his human account was available for communicating. Someone was on his human account... but who?

He was so fixed on it he didn't notice the webcam on top of the computer activate.

* * *

Soundwave sat on the other side of cyberspace, waiting for the_ human_ on their other side to chat with him. However to Soundwave's slight disappointment he didn't.

A bitter smirk pulled from behind his facemask as he started at Rumble's holographic disguise on the other side of the human's messaging board.

He had found what Rumble had been doing on his computer.

Soundwave was conflicted on how he should feel after he read the email and visited the website of the 'ghost hunter' John Lancaster.

One half was somewhat disgusted that his own cassette would form a benevolent relationship with a human and seeked help from another source, acting like an Autobot.

He also felt somewhat rejected. From what he had read on the messages Rumble seemed to take the human's words into consideration more than his. He didn't like that.

However the other, logical half told Soundwave that Rumble had acted out of pure desperation. Soundwave could understand; he understood what extent desperate mechs would go to return things to normal— Astrotrain had fled all the way to Cybertron for answers to the ghost problem. Rumble wanted Frenzy back and the 'demon' (according to the human) vanquished from the base. He understood and although he didn't agree with Rumble's methods he understood why he contacted the human. He also finally saw why Rumble had fled the base as dramatically as he did. The last email from the human to Rumble told him all he needed to know and ironically captured his curiosity…

_**I know what you are.  
Find another ghost hunter.**_

_**P.S: It's a demon. Have fun.**_

Now what could the human possibly mean by _'I know what you are'?_ Soundwave guessed the literal meaning; the statement was too blunt to suggest anything else. The human found out what Rumble was and cut all ties.

The more he analyzed the date and the small email, he began to connect the dots. The absence of the 'demon' and the human's sudden knowledge of the demon pointed to the theory that the demon somehow managed to scare the human, most likely by informing the human of who he was talking to. Still... he couldn't help but feel that there was something missing.

How did the demon convince the human that he was talking to a Decepticon? Perhaps that would be something that Rumble could answer if he found the human and Ravage brought Rumble back.

Laughter emanated from the closet door. Soundwave ignored it, keeping his focus on the computer.

Then a new noise...

A cat-like growl came through the closet and managed to creep under his armor— the sound wasn't normal and it chilled him. It was challenging Soundwave to acknowledge him.

Soundwave, against his logic stood and approached his closet door and opened it, revealing the puppet tied to Soundwave's improvised strings, he made a mental note that he was going to have to get rid of the slack.

Soundwave entered and closed the closet door behind him, waiting for the typical goading.

Frenzy's head lazily swinging from side to side like a snake, his chin down but his black optics upon him, readying for a strike. Soundwave waited for it's best hit.

"Learn anything new about anything today?" he questioned, a drunken smirk of satisfaction on his face, "Of course not. You no closer, you'll never know anything about me and it's so pathetic it disgusts me—not even the most retarded sodomite has taken longer than you so I'll let you experience my rare benevolence and tell you a little secret."

Soundwave waited for the inevitable punch line.

"Poor fool listening through the door/ you will soon morn you're born/ for I _AM_ a demon— HEAR ME _ROAR!"_

It cackled through Frenzy, continuing to do so as Soundwave was shoved to his back, landing on the floor harshly from the invisible shove. The closet door shut, muffling the demonic cackling. Soundwave stood and retreated from his quarters, walking brusquely down the corridors to somewhere private.

There were others in the hall, walking to their own quarters and moving quickly out of the way for the Communications Officer that they noticed was walking faster than usual. Even though they had never been able to identify what the stoic mech ever thought or felt, they could sense anger coming from the navy mech's form.

Soundwave finally found a place unoccupied; a solitary storage room filled with unimportant scrap. Good. For a moment he stood there fuming, wondering if he should or should not let his furious feelings let him vent.

It was tempting, but he didn't let his anger take control of him, expressing his anger would only prove that the entity was getting to him. He decided not to break or throw anything, deciding it was wiser to let his processor try and sort out everything logically.

He sat himself on a box, his hands placed neatly on his thighs. Despite that the entity's goal was to frighten him, he had confirmed what the human had told Rumble. As much as he hated to admit it, the puzzle pieces fit. The human knew what it was, got to the human, and since Soundwave had seen the messages couldn't cover it's identity any longer—so he flaunted it. Still… he now knew what it _was, _which couldn't help but make Soundwave smile. It was information he had been waiting for…

However he still had another dilemma…

Now that he knew that the demon was not a Cybertronian ghost, but a human phantasm, did he use the knowledge and continue trying to use a Cybertronian and scientific approach? Or was he going to have to rid himself of the world he knew, embrace a methodology he thought inferior and use it?

He sat there, weighing them.

Wondering which one was the best option— not for him, but for Frenzy.

* * *

Rumble couldn't help but stare in confusion at the twin burned patches of yellow grass in John's bleak backyard, a medium size—destroyed— trampoline the only thing occupying the backyard besides a grill on the faded maroon porch.

What confused him was the yellow patches were identical circles, spaced about 10 to 13 feet apart from one another. For some reason, he thought he seen something like it before, it looked like thruster burns from Seeker's feet when they came down for a landing...

He shrugged, forgetting about it. Besides... whatever it was wasn't as half as good as what he found.

Rumble slapped the small black leather address book in his hand, already an address in mind.

He turned on his anti-gravity.

His next destination—the residence of Henry Richard Lee. John's closest and most trusted friend according to 'Facebook.' Besides, John's last bank withdrawal signaled that he was the closest to Lee and his house in Savannah, Georgia. So that was his best bit and his new plan...

He would follow John to most haunted city in America.

* * *

**A/N:** Boring chapter but it's a 'setter chapter' and needs to be done. Nevertheless I hoped you enjoyed it. :) Also many thanks to all the reviews- can't tell you how much I'm thankful for them. ;) Also to any ghost junkies I dropped the name of a famous ghost hunter in this chapter... can you find him/her? :P

Next chapter will include Starscream- promise. :P Hope you join me next time! :)


	17. Shanghaied

**_A/N: _**Just would like to thank everyone for all the amazing reviews that I have recieved over the past year. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I was worthy enough to pass the 100 mark. ^^ So for that I am eternally thank you for sticking with me. You are all spledid. :D

Enjoy the chapter! :)

**_

* * *

_**

**_THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA_**

**Chapter 17**

**"Shanghaied"**

**

* * *

**

The day-cycles dragged on longer for the mechs after the meeting about their tenant. Even when they tried to ignore that there was a malevolent spirit lurking in the base, their attempts proved futile.

Even the most relaxing and enjoyable entertainments in the base were rendered uncomfortable; they could never find the exuberance in pulling pranks on the others, drinking high grade and partaking in the human forms of entertainment. There always seemed to be no point in trying to dismiss that they had a real, terrifying situation on their hands and carry on like nothing was wrong.

In the Common Room of the base only a brave few sat in the chairs— brave but still uncomfortable. It was impossible to tell if they were being watched or not, their paranoia would always confuse them when they stepped out of their rooms.

Nevertheless, they had to risk it or they would be consumed by cabin fever. They figured as long as they had a friend, they would be safe.

"You think Soundwave would have found something by now," Skywarp bitterly commented, moving his half-full cube back and forth across the table with his fingertips.

Thundercracker's optic ridges shrugged, "It's Soundwave, he'll come up with something. He's going to have to after all."

"Yeah," Skywarp smirked awkwardlyas he leaned back in his chair, "Sometimes I forget how bad the fragger got it— he's _actually_ making me feel sorry for him. Have you seen him lately? He ain't looking too good. Fragger looks like he hasn't recharged; paint's starting to dull and slag."

Thundercracker tugged the corner of his mouth with distaste, "Yeah I've seen him too. Unfortunately he has a reason to look like that and we don't."

"Well Pit, it's fragging hard to walk anywhere around the base for a decent paint job— no one's out when I'm out and I'm not going into the wash racks after hearing what happened to Megatron in there. I don't want to be taking a shower and Optimus Prime is at my back— watching me."

Thundercracker's optics drifted over the room, "It knows what scares us. I hate that."

Skywarp shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "Yeah," he scoffed lightly, "Astrotrain Blitzwing, Screamer and Breakdown— how come they get to leave? Maybe if we all left then it'll stop, we'd be out of the base— can't follow us."

"You really think that if we all left that it wouldn't follow us to a temporary base, no offense Warp but I think this thing is a little bit smarter than that."

"Just sayin..."

The doors to the Common Room opened, revealing a disgruntled Blitzwing who didn't even notice the two Seekers and stormed in. He grabbed an energon from the Dispenser and drank till the last drop was consumed.

"You find our Trine leader Blitzy?" asked Skywarp, starring at his own energon cube.

Blitzwing slammed his energon cube against the ledge of the Energon Dispenser—breaking the cube to bits.

"I'll take that as a _no_," Skywarp said.

Blitzwing scowled at the Seekers with a peeved look. He shook his head, a violent expression on his face, "I looked for that fragger everywhere and I still couldn't find him."

Blitzwing set his visor on the ceiling, his optics stabbing it with a malevolent glare. "Where the frag is he?" he demanded with a hostile tone.

* * *

Breakdown stopped struggling against his restraints for some time now— _what was the point?_ Starscream had tied him up pretty good. He lay on his side with chains snaked around his entire body in the middle of the dark Storage Room where Starscream and the demon had cornered him. All he could do was lay there immobile like a prisoner awaiting the dungeon master.

He was helpless. Starscream had disconnected his communication systems with a laser scalpel—Breakdown was awake for the procedure. Despite it all it, it wasn't being at the demon's mercy was what scared him the most, it was Starscream that scared him the most.

Starscream may have been traitorous and uncaring, but he still couldn't believe that he would do this to a fellow Decepticon and team up with something like a demon.

Starscream sat nearby on a box, awaiting the arrival of the demon to give him more lessons... and Breakdown was the dummy.

"Starscream... who I'm gonna tell? Who's gonna believe me, everyone will just think I'm crazy anyway... just let me go..."

"Shut up," was Starscream response, his tone indifferent to the Stunticon's obvious suffering, "Be happy that I didn't just kill you."

Breakdown stared at the ceiling, feeling Starscream's optics on him, "Why would you want to be a ghost? Why would you want to do this…"

"Why wouldn't I want to do it?" Starscream said, rising and approaching him, a dark smile on his face. "Be logical Breakdown. Granted I never believed in this paranormal slag, but now that our friend has taught me to see the light. Why not? The ability to learn how to conquer death? Why would I ever turn that down?"

"You'll be a ghost, you'll be alone, without friends, don't you feel something?"

Starscream laughed loudly, "My my Breakdown you don't know me at all do you?"

Starscream laughed again, making Breakdown grimace.

"And besides let me ask you Breakdown even if I did have anything sentimental in my body, where does sentimental ever take you in the cruel world? I'll know what I'll become when I die. This demon senses it and I sense it as well. So quit gripping and be thankful that you will also know the secrets as well. And who knows, maybe he'll let you become a ghost, you'll be a slave but at least you'll still function."

"I'd rather be dead," Breakdown whispered, a shutter running through his circuitry.

A cold hand caressed his forehead, mockingly tender. Breakdown trembled and moved his head, trying to escape it's burning touch. Oversight, the demon's favorite disguise, smiled from above Breakdown, his form completely solid, _"I'll remember that as a request."_

Oversight removed his hand and walked over to Starscream with a smile on his face. Starscream smiled back at his teacher, awaiting instruction.

_"Show me and I'll teach you more,"_ commanded Oversight.

Starscream's optics dimmed, a bitter pang of frustration coursing through him. He hated being tested on the material, but it was how the demon liked to do things…

The last lesson ran through his mind as he began to enter a state of complete euphoric relaxation.

_"Follow my instructions and enter yourself into meditation. You will feel your body go numb, your body will be engulfed with the energy that races from the environment around you. You must draw energy from the environment, that is how we manifest, that is how we acknowledge our presence to the living. You must not let them forget. You must make yourself unforgettable..."_

_"Only a select group in the living can do this, but since you have my instruction you should master this... you will first feel pain. Embrace it."_

Starscream's body jerked slightly, his entire form hitting him like a blast of liquid nitrogen. It was excruciating, like his someone stabbing him with a thousand needles through his metallic skin and drawing the fuel from his very lines.

Starscream's hands balled into fists, trying his best to accept it. As the pain became unbearable Starscream kept reminding himself that the pain meant that he was doing it right. It gave him motivation to continue.

_"Then you must give back, you must transfer your energy out of your body... and you will get your result."_

Starscream's air circulation raced, his body completely consumed with pain. Breakdown watched in horror from nearby, his optics wide and his mouth agape.

Oversight moved in front of Breakdown, blocking the Stunticon's view, a large satisfied smile on his mutilated face. He said nothing, mockingly loving Starscream's persistence. _Did he really think he would be able to produce ectoplasm? What an easily manipulated fool…_

Much to the demon's surprise, Starscream dropped to his knees, feeling his energy completely drained from his systems... the black substance on the tips of his fingers appearing and then disappearing. Oversight narrowed his optics in malice. _So… the scientist has some psychic ability, does he? That's interesting… the Second in Command **could **become a demon. Hmm._

Starscream could barely stand, his entire form aching as he remained on his hands and knees, his circulation systems trying to cool his burning circuitry. It was a torturous exercise, but the results were well worth it...

Oversight came down and knelt down in front of Starscream. He felt Oversight grasp Starscream's neck in a friendly and congratulating grasp, giving it a small shake.

_"You've surpassed my expectation…"_ Oversight said, _"Continue this and you will conquer death."_

Starscream smiled, feeling proud of himself. Ectoplasm—he created ectoplasm.

_"I will give you another lesson once you have taken care of Astrotrain,"_ Oversight said, his smirk darkening, some of his form growing transparent, _"he has returned."_

_

* * *

_

"You couldn't find Starscream?"

Blitzwing narrowed his optics, a frown upon his face as he paced his quarters, Reflector and Astrotrain staring at him with baffled expression. Astrotrain's face twisted in confusion, his optics staring at Blitzwing for any indication that he was joking; he couldn't find any...

"No, I combed this whole fraggin' planet— I couldn't find his signature. The fragger is very sneaky."

Blitzwing gripped the back of his chair with anger. "I don't know how he did it, but he's still out there— probably fraggin' laughing at me."

Astrotrain shook his head, his optic ridges lifting up briefly and replied, "Well... he's has to come back sometime. Besides, doesn't matter anymore. I found something about Oversight. Starscream is old news."

Blitzwing's interest was heightened, his expression softening from anger to discomfort as he looked at his fellow Triple-Changer. "What did you find out about the slagger?"

Astrotrain scoffed slightly, a nervous sigh escaping him, "Whatever this ghost is, isn't Oversight. Oversight never left Cybertron. He's still there, haunting his spot. This thing has been playing us from the beginning. He probably read my mind and been using Oversight as a camouflage to throw us off."

Blitzwing's optics widened from behind his visor, confusion setting in, "So what is this ghost, maybe you made a mistake and picked up another ghost on Cybertron— you were a kid after all when it happened, maybe you forgot a few details about your buddy."

Astrotrain casted a stern glance over at Blitzwing, his expression one of dead-seriousness. "I didn't forget."

The tank waved a hand through the air, "Whatever. So... what do you think it is if it's not Oversight."

"Remember everyone's testimonies? When I was listening to the others talking about Oversight and his description, I kept noticing something. Oversight's optics would change color. They would be red— which is what they are supposed to be— they would yellow, and then once I heard blue. And this trip to Cybetron just confirmed what I thought— this is _not _Oversight. This is something else."

Blitzwing sighed, letting his friend's words sink in. He leaned against his desk and crossed his arms over his chassis. "How sure are you?"

"Completely positive," Astrotrain answered wit confidence.

Blitzwing stared at Astortrain, assessing him. Blitzwing could tell that Astrotrain was serious. "Then you should let Soundwave know what you found since no one else is dealing with this besides us... besides, you won't have to tell Megatron—Soundjerk will."

Astrotrain grimaced slightly at the thought of talking to Soundwave; not his biggest comrade in the base. However he _was_ the closest ally he would have during this strange period in the base.

Astrotrain groaned slightly and walked to the door, heading for the Communication Officer's quarters.

Blitzwing shot a look at Reflector who shivered uncomfortably where he (they) stood.

"What the frag's up with you?"

The camera-bots shifted, their shoulder's shrugging slightly. "It's cold in here."

* * *

It was amazing how stupid humans could be.

Hot downtown Savannah was crawling with the fleshies up and down the block, office drones free to consume whatever they craved on their little time for lunch, but after burning the human's face into his processor there was little Rumble could be mistaken about when it came to identifying his target. It was definitely him: 6 feet, Caucasian male in his thirties, oval face with an untamed Winnfield beard, dark brown hair and a medium toned build… and another detail that threw him off at first… a dark cover that clung over his left eye (Rumble didn't remember seeing it before.)

John didn't notice him, the hustle- and-bustle camouflaging him. Instead he continued reading across the street at the café, oblivious to the dangerous stranger looking at him. He also seemed rather disheveled, as if he had debt on his shoulders. Rumble wondered why the fleshie seemed so stressed out…

He didn't remain alone, another male, and who better than the reason he had to come to the southern metropolitan. Henry Lee approached him, walking behind. The white skinned man gave a friendly swat to John' shoulder blades, a grin spreading across his tanned face. John turned around, his newspaper crumpling unimportantly as he turned to great his friend, a smile spreading across his face. John lifted himself out of his chair and wrapped Henry in an embrace, giving him a few pats on the back. Rumble noticed that John's face contorted into a wince.

They sat down and began their conversation.

Rumble made his move and went over to sit down at the table behind them. They glanced over at him, giving him a double-take like all the humans did when they saw him. They said nothing, keeping their jokes to themselves and went back to their conversation.

"Why you wearing the patch man?" Henry questioned, a laugh threatening to escape, "Special occasion?"

"Forgot my contacts and since nobody like lookin' at my eye—" John said, his voice an aristocratic southern accent.

"That's for sure," Henry interrupted, jesting.

"Fuck you, dick," John laughed.

Henry returned his laughter and then asked, "Nice to see you chump, you hardly ever call. Bridger's been wondering when we were going to see you guys again and frankly I could use it, if I have to play '_Transformers' _one more time… Where's Holly? Is she with... you know, with the _witch_?"

A waitress approached Rumble's table, her dark eyebrows lifting minutely as an awkward expression crossed her face, but she quickly wiped it off and presented a professional demeanor. "Hello, my name is Sarah and I'll be-"

"Beat it femme," was Rumble's harsh response, his main focus on the table behind him.

Sarah blinked, stunned by his rudeness. She flipped her notepad and placed it inside her white apron. "Alright, umm... will you be ordering anything later, sir?"

Rumble diverted his attention on the annoying servant, "No. I fraggin' won't."

Sarah was done being polite, instead she inhaled her pride and retreated to John and Henry's table, asking the same question to them.

"Hey Sarah, how ya doing?" he heard Henry say.

"I'm good Henry nice to see you— what'll you have today, the usual?"

"Oh no… I've finally reached _that_ point. I need to be more unpredictable, but I'll do that tomorrow. The usual indeed, please."

"And for you sir?"

"Just coffee please," was John's order.

With that uselessness out of the way, she left and Rumble listened in on more of their conversation. "No she's with Darlene. Holly wanted to see her aunt—Darlene was happy to babysit. Actually the witch is in the Caribbean with Mr. Accountant on their honeymoon... probably fucking each other senseless as we speak. My time won't be up for another week," John replied. "I'm sorta taking her on our own vacation right now."

"Where to? I know for a fact it ain't Savannah. You hate this city."

"I know," John replied, a grimace in his tone. "I'm taking her on a road trip to Kentucky; she wants to see the horses but I wanted to see how you were doing before we went up, plus I needed to see a friend, I don't get to see many friends anymore— always working."

"Working on what?"

"Two jobs, a kid, trying to keep the demons off my back, you know the usual."

"Demons, huh?"

"Did I say that?"

An awkward silence drifted from their table to Rumble's and he instantly felt it's heavy weight, even without glancing behind him Rumble could tell that John was strangely uncomfortable. Rumble suppressed looking at their table and settled with a slight tilt of his head, his optics squinting slightly... besides there was no need for him to personally intervene, Henry did it for him.

"You alright?" he questioned, his tone laced with slight concern. "You seem a little... _off_."

"Ya I'm fine," John returned back, speaking to his friend as if he was a stranger that had asked him.

"No you're not," Henry said, "You seem really down."

"Fuck, I said I'm fine."

Silence lingered in the air, louder than the commotion coming from the clanging plates and the background noise of the other patrons.

"Sorry Johnny, just checking you know, friend- you know I'm your _friend?"_ Henry said with a calm but hesitant voice.

"I know," John sighed, "I'm sorry. Just a little frazzled is all, didn't mean to... sorry."

"No worries," Henry replied, he paused, letting the moment ease the tension before he asked: "What does have you _frazzled_ though?"

John paused, letting silence drift over them once again before he answered, "I'll tell you later. It's not the best environment for the story."

"What _would_ be the right environment?"

"Preferably one where there aren't any living ears besides yours and Janet's to judge me."

"Umm alright," Henry said, he also paused momentarily. "You want to come by later? Bridger would love to have a friend to play with."

John cleared his throat uncomfortably, as if he was cringing. "Ya... ya I'll come by... what time?"

"Dinner time? 6 o'clock? I think Janet's making seafood fettuccini or something and I could use an Indiana Jones and I think I got the stuff for your Tennessee Cowboy."

John laughed lightly, "Alright, then I'll stop at the liquor store. Janet still likes tiger lilies right?"

"Yep. She likes 'em—you _homewrecker_."

John laughed, "Drives you up the wall and that's why I do it. Alright I'll be there then."

Rumble smirked to himself and left the table.

_

* * *

_

Astrotrain never came back to his quarters. Blitzwing, was sure, he had been up all recharge cycle and had not heard his doors open. He wanted to know what Soundwave would have to say. However his short and irritable patience was starting to get the best of him, which is the only reason he decided to get up and exit his quarters.

He risked the attention. He knew the dangers of wandering around the Nemesis at night but he was too stubborn to open the door again.

He proceeded down the halls, glancing at each individual's door as he went up each level and failed to find Astrotrain. He decided to go where Astrotrain did.

He felt as if someone was staring at him, causing him to turn around sharply.

Nothing.

Blitzwing could have sworn he felt someone watching him, but he ignored it and pressed on and turned around; continuing to Soundwave's quarters.

When Blitzwing turned the corner, Starscream peeked out from behind the hall, smirked and continued to pass…

Dragging a nullified Astrotrain with him.

* * *

Soundwave stood and opened his quarter doors to see his visitor.

"Sorry to bug you Soundwave but has Astrotrain come by? He said he was on his way to see you."

"Negative. Reason?" Soundwave asked.

"He has information he thinks you could use about the ghost," answered Blitzwing. "He says that it's not Cybertronian. It's not the fragger that's everyone has seen."

Soundwave paused, absorbing Blitzwing's words— they were evidence. "Summon Astrotrain here once you located him," was Soundwave's good-bye.

Blitzwing mumbled something derogatory under his breath behind the door but then soon left. Soundwave's mind raced, although the information was redundant to him, it would not be redundant to the others if there was need to convince them that the entity that was bothering him was not Cybertronian, but human... or _non-human_…?

Human information on demons was bizarre and confusing. Different regions expressed different belief systems and methods on how to rid a demon, they had different procedures but they all relatively bared the same name…

_Exorcism_… A religious ritual— A _human_ religious ritual.

Soundwave really did not know what to think. Even for someone as emotionless as him, he could not dismiss his pride and degrade himself by reading any further. Logic told him human methods would be ridiculous, he just didn't know how ridiculous until now.

He could no longer be positive about human methods until Rumble returned.

* * *

Nighttime arrived and only the ghosts were out with the exception of a certain alien mech.

Rumble waited in the dense bush across the street from Henry Lee's yellow two story house, his holograms disguised as the bush providing him perfect cover. He had been here ever since John's white Jeep Cherokee pulled up. He knew it would be a while when John would retreat back to his motel… and then he would be able to get him alone. For now he would watch and wait.

While he sat there, watching the fleshie's dark figures moving across curtained window, Rumble decided to use the time to think of what he was going to say and do when he did get John.

He read online that when ghost hunters did a case they usually came to the victim's house and investigated the sight like paranormal CSI's, that way the ghost hunters could identify exactly the problem and find a correct and precise solution to deal with it.

Rumble didn't want the fleshie in the base. He only planned to corner the fleshie and get info on how to get rid of the demon— and to find out how the fragger found out what he was (if he _did_).

However, even if he did corner him and got information out of him, what if he needed help later? He couldn't keep jumping out of the base and he wasn't particularly in the mood to try and deceive another ghost hunter and do this whole process again.

Rumble rolled his optics, sighing irritably. He was probably going to have to bring him to the base. **_FRAG!_**

It was going to definitely be a pain in the aft, that's for sure but if it helped Frenzy... well, he wouldn't mind the extra baggage.

Rumble's face pulled into disgust of the fiasco he was going to have to do in order to keep his human alive and functional. If Soundwave or the others found him the fleshie was dead and he was no good to him dead…

Noise caught his attention…

Two sparklings rushed out of the screen door and tapped onto the porch, laughing and giggling as they waved plastic dolls through the air in dizzy flights.

Rumble zoomed in out of boredom. There was a boy and girl, roughly around the same age, the boy seemingly younger with blonde hair and an Autobot shirt that reached all the way down to the knees of his jeans... he couldn't also help but notice that he was holding an Optimus Prime doll in his hands and an Ironhide in the other. Rumble scowled in disgust...

The girl was older with bobbed dark hair wearing a yellow sundress, she had a plump Megatron plushie in her hand… she seemed less than enthusiastic about holding the Decepticon doll as she lazily move him around to reengage imaginary fire with the boy's tiny Autobots.

A detail on the girl's face caught his attention, a detail that made him quite uncomfortable...

She had three red lines across her face and what bothered him the most is that it reminded him of the scratches he received in the Poveglia Island's morgue.

"I don't wanna play anymore…" the little girl said, setting down the Megatron plushie and going over to sit in the porch swing.

"Come on!" the boy cried. "Please Holly!"

She didn't say anything and curled her knees to her chest.

Suddenly the boy sat his toys down, "Wait I got some more toys we can play with— be right back!" and with that he ran back inside, leaving the girl on the porch in solitude.

Rumble's processor raced_. Holly_... _slag that was Lancaster's sparkling!_

A deviant smirk crossed his face as he abandoned the bush.

And she was all alone…

* * *

John couldn't say he didn't see it coming; after all it was hard to expect any other reaction for the odd story. Truthfully he had been questioning his own sanity after the incident, but the yellow bruises that wrapped around his waist and chest told him that it wasn't just a demon mind-fucking him, but there was something else going on in their robot base that he shouldn't get involved in.

Janet and Henry's expressions mirrored each other's; they were concerned and very doubtful that a Decepticon Seeker ever came to his house, even when John did show them the bruises wrapped around his waist to convince them— it barely did.

"I'm not going back there until I'm positive that I won't have any more robots after me."

"I understand that John, but… are you sure it wasn't just a demon playing tricks with you?" Janet asked, her brown eyes staring at him with deep concern.

John stared at them, a lead of embarrassment traveling down his throat and settling in his stomach. "I know the difference," he answered solemnly.

"Did you tell Lyman? Maybe you should have him bless the house," suggested Janet, her brown eyes staring in concern at him.

"Hell bless it yourself, you know how to do it and you got all the stuff for demon shieldin'," quipped Henry.

John's expression tightened, his good eye staring at them in angered defense, "I shouldn't have to bless my house."

"You know we believe you John but... you're just going to have to give us a while until we let it sink in... it's just not, the type of story that you associate with demons," Janet said, her melancholy expression exposing her deep regret and hesitance.

"I know Janet... and I wouldn't expect you to believe me," John lamented, his dull nails scratching softly across the surface of his glass. "I guess it doesn't matter anymore. Tell you one thing though... that was without a doubt the most frightened I've ever been in a house-call. For her sake I hope Holly forgets it—"

Suddenly the adults jumped in their seats, except for John who made a mad dash through the hallway, pass the kitchen and to the front door, adrenaline starting to pump through his veins like a shot of coffee.

A little girl's scream shattered him- _his_ little girl's scream.

The door swung open with a loud bang, nearly kicked off it's hinges by the intruder standing in the door frame.

John's expression transformed into one of pure dread and anger. Standing before him, his daughter under it's arm like a piece of struggling and panic-stricken luggage, was a humanoid robot roughly a foot taller than him. He gaped, stumbling backwards.

Janet and Henry fled into the room and stopped immediately in their tracks when they saw what was at the door. Janet screamed.

The purple and blue robot swaggered into the room with an angry grin, "Lookin' for this fleshie?" he accented voice questioned, nudging the crying seven-year old with a small shake.

The human stared at the robot with helpless animosity.

"Cause I been lookin' for you _ghost hunter_..." continued the Decepticon, walking into the living room with another step.

John gave the robot a hard stare; a second attack from the same alien robot military faction didn't require any more evidence for him to put two and two together— it was Ronald. His expression saddened, a wave of disgust for himself running through his veins. "I-I'll tell you what you want— just drop her. I'll go willingly."

A humored expression crossed his face, a smirk signaling that he accepted his offer. He dropped Holly who hit the tile with a small yelp. She staggered to her feet and dashed to her father. John accepted her in his embrace and crushed his sobbing daughter against his chest.

"Le's go for a walk," the robot demanded, his hand reaching over his back and grabbing his gun— aiming it at John.

John glared at him and tightened his hold on her before he started to pry her off and hand her to the other humans in the room. Fear struck Holly and she clamped on to her father, her tiny body trying to fight him as he walked over to give her to Henry and Janet who finally understood exactly what John had been talking about previously. Their eyes stared apologetically at him.

A confusing orchestra of name exchanging and desperate pleading came from the adults and frightened child, all disagreeing with each other on the right thing to be done. "Take her, just take her..."

"Don't go with it John," Henry urged as he refused to take Holly, his attention focused bitterly on robot whose patience was running low.

Janet consoled Holly as best as she could, telling the little girl lies to get her to release her father's jean jacket. "It'll be okay sweetie, your daddy will be fine..."

"NO!" she wailed. "I don't want dad to die!"

John grimmaced; her words crushed him, because he knew deep down that she was probably right.

He finally gave her to Janet before he turned around and brought his forehead against his daughter's and whispered, trying his best not to make his voice crack. "I'll be back… don't worry about me honey… I'm going to be okay. He just wants to talk to me, okay? I'll be back before you know it. Be a good girl, for Henry and Janet and I'll be back soon. I love you, sweetie-pie. "

He gave her a quick kiss on the head and turned to leave, grievingly shoving her little hand off his jean jacket—her last attempt to keep him there— and walked towards the robot.

John didn't look at him instead he marched right out the front door, his vision on the ground and didn't say anything when the robot gave him a rough shove to speed up.

His destination, God knows where...

* * *

**A/N:** Eghh... I hate OC's, especially my own. :(. Nevertheless hope they didn't kill me and still allowed you to enjoy the chapter. Thanks for reading. :)


	18. End of the Rope

_**A/N: **__I'd like to apologize for the belated update on not only this story but my others as well. I know I take so long to update on a regular basis but I had a personal issue that needed resolution first. I'm sorry if I drew out anyone's patience but life needs to take precedence over fun sometimes. Now it's fun turn to have my attention again. _

_

* * *

_

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 18**

**"End of the Rope"**

* * *

_"A desperate disease requires a dangerous remedy," _Guy Fawkes.

_"There is nothing mightier than the meek..." _Rod Serling _(Closing narration from the Twilight Zone episode 'Night of the Meek'.)_

* * *

"Soundwave report."

Megatron had called his named twice before he decided to hail him over the computer; Soundwave didn't even notice. His leader's face came on the screen, displeased and awaiting an answer to a solution that Soundwave still couldn't deliver.

"Have you made any progress yet Soundwave?" Megatron demanded, his optics hardening at his Third-In-Command.

Soundwave remained stiff in his seat, his demeanor denying to convey any emotion. "Negative."

Soundwave could sense Megatron's dwindling confidence in him start to dangerously crumble away, the angered expression on his face surpassing it's limits. "I tire of waiting Soundwave. I want results!" he roared.

"Understood Megatron," Soundwave responded; a safe and pathetic answer.

"You _better," _was his leader's good-bye before he cut the transmission, leaving Soundwave with nothing but the glow of his computer screen and a sense of disappointment.

Laserbeak dipped his beak a little lower, before casting his glance over to the closet doors and grimacing at what lay behind them. It was aggravating to see Soundwave in such a defeated state. His research resorting to nothing, his attempts to sustain Frenzy effective but slowly beginning to fail, and his self-confidence at it's lowest. Laserbeak himself could feel Soundwave's emotions through the link no matter how much he tried to hide them.

He felt helpless and so did Laserbeak; helpless that he also had nothing to offer to Soundwave as a possible solution and stop him from degrading himself by continuing to read over ghost hunter profile over and over. He hoped Soundwave wasn't thinking about the human; to ask a human for help was beyond pathetic, even as a last resort.

Laserbeak turned to Soundwave, _"I advise you not to take this path."_

Soundwave glanced over at his cassette perched on top of the table lamp. Logically Laserbeak was right, however desperation called for the illogical; calling him to transcend his normal course of actions and search for unethical measures. He knew the absurdity of such an option and had weighed it countless times over the past cycle. Although he did not approve of using religious hodge-podge or putting faith into it, he found himself convinced by the other individual who had written about the logic behind it.

The Ghost Hunter's description of demons surprised him. After reading about the same repetitive nonsense on countless websites about abolishing demons, the human's was the only one that offered different measures. The Ghost Hunter was the voice of a skeptic and Soundwave could see why Rumble had chose this one. He was the odd man out.

Still... Soundwave was not without his doubts. The human still used religious methods to fight against entities; magic words, charms and relics. The method was still too bizarre and without proof it actually worked made it difficult for him to put his faith in it. He still believed that there was something out there that could counter the human's methods in a more logical and comfortable Cybertronian matter. Whatever it was, it was eluding him and leaving him nothing but the option of the gamble.

**((Ravage acknowledge.))**

Laserbeak dimmed his optics in disappointment.

**((Coordinates of location.))**

**

* * *

**

"So... how did you find out?"

Astrotrain turned to glance over at his fellow prisoner with annoyed impatience, not in the mood to engage in small talk.

Astrotrain took a glance at the chains that the insufferable Air Commander had secured around him while he was still nullified; the Triple Changer carrying more weight in chains than the Stunticon.

He couldn't believe alot of things, like the ridiculous predicament he was in with Breakdown, or the fact that it wasn't a Cybertronian entity haunting them, but Starscream joining up with the 'demon', yeah… that he _could_ believe. Starscream was treacherous by nature and _would_ team up with the one with more to offer. Starscream possessed no morale or limitations when it came to betrayal; it was like embracing a lover to him.

Then there was another small part in him that felt ashamed of himself that he allowed that slagger to subdue him. He should have known better than to be captured by Starscream of all mechs.

However he was too consumed with confusion to beat himself up too much.

The question was why? Why was Starscream trying to keep him and the Stunticon out of the picture?

"Kickback told me," Breakdown said, although unhappy about the predicament that they were both in, felt easier that there was someone to share it with. Plus, perhaps Astrotrain could come up with a way to escape it— he had seen a ghost after all.

"He said that what we got in our base is worse than a ghost," continued Breakdown with a saddened sigh, "because, ghosts have morals and can sometimes be helpful if they want to be… but demons are like the servants of the Unmaker." Breakdown released a shaky sigh.

Astrotrain leaned his head back and rested it against the wall, the chains wound around him clinking from the single movement. He remained silent for a moment. Astrotrain and Breakdown had conflicting ideas of what the 'demon' was, though they both agreed that it wasn't Oversight. For the sake of boredom and knowing that Breakdown would not stop persisting until he told Astrotrain, the Triple Changer finally gave in and permitted the conversation.

"Ok Stunticon… suppose I believe you," Astrotrain said with a defeated sigh. "How did the bug propose to get rid of it? Everything— even the dead— must have a weakness."

Breakdown opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it when he realized he had nothing to say.

Astrotrain narrowed his optics in suspicious stare, reading Breakdown like a data pad."Can't you remember?"

"No…" Breakdown said, fear snaking into his systems. Panic set in. "I know he told me… I know he did but… I can't remember."

"You better start remembering."

"Well, I know I knew it before I came back… but I can't think of it— I know it'll come back to me!"

Astrotrain groaned in disgust, rolling his optics. "What _did_ the bug tell you that your small, dysfunctional processor _can_ remember?"

Breakdown grimaced, feeling self-conscious. "He said that it picked on me because I'm the weakest. He said they always like to pick on the weakest in the group."

Astrotrain scoffed. "Speak for yourself. I'm not weak."

"Well that's what_ I_ said! I said it has been picking on everybody— even Megatron!" Breakdown exclaimed. "But Kickback said that they will always pick on the weakest the most— or the ones that threaten them the most."

Astrotrain saw a loop-hole, "What kind of threats?"

"Well… he said that it's the ones that can see ghosts. That can see what's not there. He had a word for it, a hard one, uh… clairy… uh, oh! _Garytoyant!_" Breakdown said. "He also said that was why they wouldn't go back to the Nemesis— Kickback and the other Insecticons. They said that the demon didn't like them there because the Insecticons could smell him."

"Hmm," Astrotrain grumbled.

Breakdown suddenly lit up, "Oh! I remember what he said… he said that it we need an _exerciser_ or something. He said that the human religious groups have methods for getting rid of ghosts. He said that we need a fleshie who's skilled in that stuff."

Astrotrain couldn't help but laugh, "Are you serious? You want us to put our resources in a human? A human would get slagged the moment he got in here— and by us too if _it_ doesn't get to him first."

"Well that's what he said we needed. The Insecticons have been on Earth a long time. Kickback said he knows what he was talking about," Breakdown sighed.

"Word of advice Breakdown, don't trust the word of an Insecticon. I doubt a pathetic little worm can get rid of this ghost."

Breakdown's gaze drifted over the room, feeling that old too familiar feeling of embarrassment creep throughout his systems. Still despite his awkwardness, he couldn't help but ask: "Then... what are we supposed to do?"

Astrotrain didn't reply.

* * *

John found a new reason to hate Savannah Georgia— too many bystanders that couldn't help him.

Only a certain breed of human were out on the humid and deserted streets— the camoflaughed Decepticon behind him guiding him to an undisclosed location where he would probably kill him. And the closer they seemed to get to Bonaventure Cemetary, the largest cemetery in the city and the closet to Henry's house, the more of the unhelpful bystanders he saw. However, it wasn't them he was worried about.

His heart pounded against his rib cage like a heavy weight boxer hitting the bag, his nerves were frayed and his feet weighed him down like he was trudging through quick sand. However, on the surface he remained somewhat cool and collected, only grimacing slightly when he moved his eyes; and the muscles behind his recently removed left eye stung like acupuncture needles on his eyelid. He was still sore and he sensed the dose of Tylenol wearing off. _Perfect. _

Even though he had no idea what he had been getting into, he knew the consequences of his actions. He knew them the moment he dared to test a Decepticon's patience that he would see some sort of retaliation either verbal or physically. After all if it was Holly possessed he wouldn't sit idly by either.

However he couldn't shake his prejudice and anger. It was a Decepticon. An alien that thought it was superior enough to extinguish humans like insects. It deserved to be haunted by a demon. Especially bringing him into the situation and giving the demon power— and also bringing his daughter into the mix.

He caught the form of a stern solider standing across the street. He adverted his glance but his old tactic didn't work. The grizzly bearded and silver haired Confederate trailed behind him… he knew what John was well enough to try and keep up.

Others that congested the area caught on as well, but they did not follow him. They could sense another danger and that perhaps John would be joining them soon anyway. John frowned, replaying his philosophy over and over in his head again as he dared to look at them all._ Nothing but parasites. They think only of themselves. _

They reached their destination finally and John couldn't help but take an instinctive step back from the cemetery gates. He felt a crushing hand on his shoulder, the camaflouged robot at his back like a brick wall. With a curt shove he threw John forward, almost making him lose his balance until he crashed into the gothic black iron gates, they opened much to his dismay.

"In."

John turned back to face him."No," he said shaking his head and delivering his first blow of defiance to his kidnapper.

Rumble's face dropped into a peeved frown and John couldn't help but feel himself already digging his own grave. "Look… I…" No words came to mind.

Rumble took a threatening step forward, "Not so brave now are ya fleshie? Betcha regret sending that email now don't ya?"

John pressed his back to the gate, swallowing his Adam's apple grimly. "If you just want to kill me…" John challenged with an unconfident tone.

Rumble's face twisted into a disgusted expression. "I ain't gonna kill ya."

John stared at him. "Then…then what _do_ you really want with me?" he asked, his tone honest.

"You're gonna give me answers fleshbag," Rumble told him, taking out his weapon and aiming it at him. John inhaled sharply. "Now move it or lose it."

John didn't argue— it was the safest option. Translating expressions was his craft and he knew when to push it and when not to _(it wasn't one of those times)._

Grudgingly John pushed the gate, grimacing at the harsh creak as another uncomfortable weight settled upon him. Cemeteries were not his favorite place to visit; there was always some dismayed or angry spirit that followed him home.

They continued to walk, John trying to keep a quick but calm pace ahead of Rumble as they passed by the deteriorating slabs of stone and large statues of angels he could only see by moonlight. Remnants of time and clues to the array of old and new entities lurking in the dark and behind the pink marigold-like flowers that congested the area like pretty weeds .

He heard a quick whir and hesitantly turned to see that the Decepticon had powered down it's holographic cloak. It's red visor coated the purple and blue mech in it's crimson color, giving it a sinister appearance.

Rumble put his gun away and went to approach the human. "Ya look tired fleshie, why don't ya sit down an' relax?"

A heavy and powerful fist contacted the flesh of John's stomach like a kick from a mule. John cried out loudly, the air from his lungs exploding out as he fell to the grass like a bag of potatoes; pain ripping through his stomach and travelling through every inch of his body. Violent coughs left him as he curled up, his arms wrapped protectively around his abdomen waiting for it to all subside.

"That's for that fraggin' email ya sent me," Rumble explained with a resentful tone. "Who do ya think your mouthin' off to fleshie? I ain't some fraggin Autobot tha' let ya get away with that slag!"

John didn't given him the courtesy of a glance, instead he rose himself slowly to his feet and leaned half of his body against the tombstone adjacent to him, grimacing silently from the new bruise on his stomach already starting to form. John remained silent for a moment, his focus on the ground in front of the bulky metal feet, and tried to think of what to say even though he could sense the robot's patience dwindling the longer he took to reply. He went with the safest answer.

"I... _apologize._"

Rumble scoffed. "Ya I betcha do."

John ignored him, trying to consider it's temperament and how far the Decepticon's limits were. It wasn't like talking to a ghost or demon; this was an entirely new antagonist he wasn't sure how to behave around— especially when this one was relatively smaller than the other one that paid a house call to him; it was easier to know how to react to a forty-foot robot.

Rumble paced angrily, his hands on his hips and waiting to see which one of them would be the first to start a conversation. He had plenty of questions, he just didn't know which one to start with.

He stopped; his hands still attached to his hips, and let out a long and deep vent and went to the one on his mind for the past cycle. "How did ya know I was a Con?"

John looked up at him and for the first time met his gaze directly, but not at all benevolently. "I didn't. I would probably never would have." John tugged the corner of his mouth, his eyebrows rising curtly as he reached to scratch his dark beard. "Look. I don't know if what you told me about your kind being demonically possessed is true or just bullshit but either way… you have a _sinner_ on your hands to worry about."

"A what?"

"A sinner. It's my nickname for someone who has been... joined forces with a demonic entity," John explained.

Rumble paused, silent as he let the information sink in. He still didn't get it. "What the frag are ya talkin' about...? Jus' get ta the point!"

John shook his head, the pain in his waist already dwindling despite a constant twinge from his bruised ribs, a going away present from the red Decepticon.

"One of your buddies is in cahoots with your demon and if that is happening, then I'm guessing you are in a bigger hole than I imagined."

Rumble stared stunned at him, slight confusion and shock running through his systems. "Why do ya say tha'? How could_ you_ possibly know?"

John smiled bitterly. "Because he paid me a visit… as well as your demon," John pointed to his patched eye, another going away present.

Rumble stared at him, not understanding the purpose of him pointing at the black textile tied around his eye. True he had seen the patch before in movies, but he thought of it as nothing more than a stupid fashion trend. John could see he didn't understand it as well. Carefully he lifted it and presented to him what was underneath.

Rumble couldn't help but cringe at the squishy optic—or lack of— that lay under the patch. His eye was a mixture of purple and bronze swollen bruises that were painted over the sinking crater of his socket. Even though he lacked an eye he could still feel it staring in animosity at Rumble as if he was responsible for it. In a way he was because three, stitched lines lay across the top of his brow line, disappeared slightly in the colored wound and ran down to the top of his cheek. The demon had clawed his eye out.

"He said he would return for the other eye if I continued to help you," John snorted. "But it was your buddy who threatened to kill my daughter was the reason I stopped helping you."

Rumble frowned, understanding but still not at all forgiving. He crossed his arms over his chest. Even though he did not necessarily believe the human was attacked by another Transformer—the demon sure— but he still had to ask. "Which _buddy_ are ya talkin about?"

John secured the eye patch back over his eye and ran his palms over the back of his neck, exhaling tiredly. "I don't know any of your names—never cared to know— but he was red, white and blue with a screechy voice. Ring any bells?"

Rumble optics widened. "Starscream?" he said aloud to himself. John shrugged indifferently, unable to confirm nor deny.

"But why would…" Rumble trailed off, talking to himself. He sat down on a tombstone and thought, the puzzle pieces starting to fit. Starscream had been missing during the timeframe, however if it was Starscream why didn't he just terminate the squishy and get it over with? And why would Starscream agree to be in cahoots with a demon? Human or Cybertronian?

"Why didn't it jus kill ya?" questioned Rumble, a little to himself. "Why did it jus' rattle ya and hurt ya a little?"

Rumble narrowed his optics, the human seemingly oblivious to him as his gaze drifted over to the space of air next to Rumble. Rumble turned to see nothing. _What the frag was he staring at? _"Hey!"

The human didn't hear him, his face dropping slightly.

"I'm talkin' ta ya fleshbag!" exclaimed Rumble, immediately catching his attention. "Why didn't the thing jus' kill ya?"

John sighed, hesitating for a brief moment and trying to catch back up with the conversation."Demons love to play games. Their goal is to make you as miserable as possible—some are a little more sophisticated— but all in all making others suffer is their main motive." John looked back at the same nothingness and said, "Some people in the living like to do that as well."

Rumble optics shifted from John and to what he was staring at. Rumble noticed the smallest of expression of hatred on his face reserved for someone other than Rumble.

John turned back to Rumble, clearing his throat uncomfortably as if remembering the situation he had been pulled into."They don't like it when people of my profession meddle in their affairs. Especially if a Ghost Hunter is religious, an equally hard nut, or clairvoyant. I possess two out of three."

Rumble quirked a metallic brow. _There was that fraggin' word again…_

"What the frag is _clairvoyance_?" Rumble asked.

John let out an inept chuckle, stood and paced, his back to Rumble. He sighed and shook his head. "It means… it means I can see them."

Rumble drew back, confused. "See? See fraggin' who?"

John sighed in annoyance. "What do you think?"

"Watch it fleshie," warned Rumble, disliking his tone.

"Ghosts. I see ghosts," John blurted, oblivious to his kidnapper's warning. "I see ghosts wherever I fuckin' go. Even now. There are ghosts right now— everywhere in this cemetery. That's why I didn't want to come in here."

Rumble stared at the human for a moment, dumbfounded and wondering if the human was mentally sick. He almost reached that conclusion when he remembered what the demon had told him in the base whenever the Ghost Hunter was brought up...

_"... if you think you're clairvoyant can help you you are poorly mistaken."_

_"... Your Ghost Hunter isn't the only clairvoyant I have made contact with and from what I have read over your shoulder he doesn't seem to be the most dependable."_

"He knew from the website. He told me he did," Rumble scoffed. Though it made sense he still had a hard time letting it sink in. This fleshie could actually see ghosts? Rumble shook his head; he needed some sort of proof.

"Show me."

John shuttered, the muscles in his body going numb. "What?"

"I want ya ta prove it," repeated Rumble. "Talk ta one. We're in a cemetery. I'm sure ya can find one if you can do what ya say ya can."

John turned to face him, the color vanishing from his face. His growing bravado crushed by the demand for a test he could get him killed if he failed. It was not an easy thing to prove by pure improvisation.

"Uh…" John glanced around, drifting from the shadow people who had been watching the scene the entire time, including the grizzly and stern Confederate soldier that had followed them and the rather devious Klu Klux Klan member in full garb who had been staring at Rumble ever since he started to lean on the tombstone.

John stepped forward like a man struck with stage fright; he breathed heavily and looked at both of them, judging to see which ghost who would be more than happy to present an example.

John chose Mr. KKK; angry ghosts never held back when it came to wasting energy. The Confederate soldier just looked like he wanted help or pity.

Rumble watched John approach him, walking his side and standing next to him— all the while keeping his distance. "I notice you have been staring at him. He makes you mad doesn't he? Would you tap him on the shoulder and make him stop leaning against your tombstone?"

Rumble waited anxiously.

John narrowed his eyes in confusion; he turned to see the Decepticon with a dangerous unimpressed look on his face. He turned back to the ghost. "I don't—what the fuck does that mean?" John huffed impaitently, calming himself before trying again. "Ain't you angry that he's leaning on your grave? Don't you want him off— or maybe me? Push me— push me off your grave!" John rubbed his leather sole into the ground, digging up the grass and desecrating it to egg him.

"_Push_ me you asshole." John gritted through his teeth. "I know you can."

There was a pause before John threw up the bird and backed off. "Fuck you too," John replied.

Rumble shook his head and asked with an umamused smile. "So...what he _say_?" He didn't believe him.

John inhaled deeply, sensing the consequences to come. He had failed. Might as well humor it before he died. "He said… he said to watch out for the cat in the tree."

John waited, expecting laughter, a mocking smile or any indication that his fate had been sealed by the robot's disbelief, instead all he returned was a fear stricken face. Suddenly he stood up and panned around, looking wildly for something in the dark. For the first time, John was witnessing a nervous Decepticon.

**((Ravage?))** called Rumble through the comm. channel. **((I know you're aroun' where are ya?))**

There was nothing but static on the other line, until…

**((I'm enjoying the conversation Rumble. Ask the human if he can have the ghosts perform tricks.))** Ravage sarcastically communicated, his tone nowhere near amused.

Rumble groaned, a wave of grief and annoyance washing over him. He'd been caught— and before he was able to get any sort of answers out of the human. **((Where are ya— stop hiding your signature!))**

**((**_**I**_** am not the one who is hiding my signature Rumble.))**

Rumble gaped in horror. He knew there was only one other mech that could camaflouge Ravage's signature—both his positioning systems and through the link.

**((Where are ya both?))**

**((The tree to your left.))**

Rumble turned to the Spanish Moss that shadowed the tombstones beneath it, scanning every leaf, every grassy drape and morbid twisted branch. Then he stiffened.

Ravage's optics flashed from behind a dense branch that concealed his form, by him, balanced on the branch was Soundwave in his tape deck mode.

Carefully Ravage gripped the handle on Soundwave's form and jumped down, his stealth only allowing a loud thud to echo through air and over the sound of crickets. John gaped and began to back off, almost contemplating about running until a metallic hand gripped the lapels of his jean jacket and the fabric of his shirt, twisting it painfully and keeping the human planted there. "You don't get off tha' easy," Rumble seethed.

Ravage let Soundwave down and stalked towards Rumble, his optics slanted in natural hostility at the human who was shuttering in fear, however Ravage was still the meager of threats...

Soundwave transformed before them, breaking tombstones beneath his feet as if they were pebbles, and covered the cemetery in the glow of his red visor. It's intimidating form blocking out the moon from view as he began to move towards them. John could feel the ground thunder lightly from it's footsteps.

He was speechless. Everything about the navy Decepticon was imposing: it's height, size, the expressionless but sinister face— even the atmosphere that permeated off it. It was more terrifying than visiting a dozen cemeteries.

"Oh—goh..." he couldn't breathe. _Who was it? Why was it here? Would it kill him?_

Soundwave stood in front of his cassette, as if staring at the mini and waiting for it's excuse. Rumble let the human drop to the ground, he wasn't going to go anywhere with Ravage around to hunt him down.

"B-Boss… I can explain… I"

Soundwave turned to the human laying on the ground. "Resume spirit communication."

Ravage and Rumble turned to the human, both as equally stunned that Soundwave's first order of business was proving the human's psychic validity.

Even though John heard the command he didn't react; he lay there on the ground, dumb and silent. The mere presence and appearance of the Con couldn't compare to the intimidating and monotonous voice.

"Resume spirit communication. NOW." Soundwave repeated with more forceful tone.

John exhaled deeply, breathing for the first time since he emerged into the scene. Slowly and shakily he stood up, his legs like gelatin. He turned his back to Soundwave and pressed a hand to his face as if trying to pull the fear from it. He closed his eye and inhaled deeply, calming himself. He opened and began to look for a ghost— any ghost.

Rumble turned to look at Soundwave, wondering why he was seemingly ignoring him; as if he wasn't even mad. Instead Soundwave's finger went to his pelvic buttons and started to record.

John began to panic; there was nobody to communicate with. They had all left when they saw the giant Decepticon as well. They doomed him. He breathed heavily, sweat beginning to roll.

"Someone talk to me please…" he whispered, seething his words. "A little fucking help please!"

Ravage snorted, rolling his optics. John looked over at the cat, shivered and then resumed, trying to ignore the three death machines staring at him.

John felt a surge of both relief and trepidation when he felt the cold wind at his back and hollowed breathing at his ear. He glanced slightly over his shoulder but didn't bother to turn; he didn't have to turn to met the ghost's face to know who it was. Soundwave noticed his reaction, who also felt the small presence disrupting the electromagnetic field of the environment and took note of it.

_"No one cares…" _whispered the Klansman. Without warning a fist slammed into the middle of John's back and pushed him forward. John's arms sailed like a rag dolls, his feet lost traction against the grass and he rolled forward and hit the dirt.

John pulled himself to his feet and turned to possibly face his doom. Looking at the navy Decepticon right in the visor, waiting anxiously.

Soundwave paused the recording and then played it back— enhancing the audio. He played it over and over again, confirming. Even with the recording the physical act the ghost exhibited proved that the human was, indeed, aware— he had instructed the ghost to push him before with Rumble, the voice just confirmed he was present to do it.

"What skills do you possess?" demanded Soundwave.

John's eyebrows rose in surprise. Did he actually _believe _him? John sighed, thinking on how to answer. Everything he said had to be precise, everything had to be the right thing to say— his life depended on it.

He cleared his throat and tried to present the best professional demeanor considering the circumstances and replied. "That depends… what do you need?"

Soundwave's head dipped lower, his visor flashing with an angry hue. _**"Extermination."**_

John shifted, the malignant cat creeping closer to him. John's face grew slightly with horror the more he realized that the Decepticon wanted him to get rid of the demon for him.

_Shit._

_

* * *

_

Time passed them both significantly slow as they sat alone in the abandoned storage room.

Astrotrain had no idea of Starscream whereabouts and neither did Breakdown; it seemed he only visited the storage room to check on his prisoners. The ghost, well, they never could tell where it was but Breakdown was certain it was watching them all the time. Astrotrain was already getting sick of his fellow prisoner but tried to make the best out of it, somewhat…

"I wonder how long Starscream can keep up his disappearing act," Astrotrain pondered mockingly to himself. "I mean I'm sure your teammates are worried and I know Blitzwing will be looking for me. I'm going to enjoy turning that traitorous slagger in to Megatron. What about you Breakdown what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," shrugged Breakdown, a grim smile on his face. He wasn't sure if Astrotrain was just making small talk or gradually going insane. _Probably the latter._

"Come on Breakdown, you've been here longer than me— what is his schedule like?" questioned Astrotrain. "There must be some sort of time frame."

"I don't know, he comes and goes randomly…"

Breakdown stopped to stare at Astrotrain, watching as his face suddenly contort with anger. Breakdown followed his glance and stiffened at the sight of one of their captors walking through the camaflouged door decorated to look like a part of the wall (the real door welded shut to fool any curious mechs).

Starscream emerged through the door with an energon cube in his hand and a tired face. He quickly closed the door and took his place on a rusty box. Not even a passive glance for his captives.

Starscream's optics dimmed and brightened, tired from his last lesson. Ectoplasm was rather difficult to produce even in an energy rich environment like the Energon Storage Room. His lips were just about to touch the cube when Astrotrain interrupted him.

"So what did it offer you Starscream? Did he offer you leadership in exchange for servitude? Did he promise to slag Megatron for you? I hope that's not why you are betraying your own kind with this thing because I will make sure no one will follow you once I get out of here. Or maybe I'll just slagging kill you myself— no one would blame me, frag Megatron would probably make me his Second in Command—!"

Starscream raised to his null ray and fired over Astrotrain's head— missing. Starscream clenched his fists, a dangerous glare on his face. "SILENCE!"

"You fragging traitor!" Astrotrain roared, baring his dental plates at him. Breakdown held his intake, cowering from the brawl that would erupt any second.

Starscream's demeanor softened but intensified with a calm and malicious expression. "That's ironic coming from you Triple Changer. Consider this your overdue comeuppance for that pathetic and short lived renegade that you participated in with your friend."

"If anyone deserves to have their aft handed to them it's you," Astrotrain returned with just as much calm ferocity as the Air Commander. "You are so ignorant and childish to trust that thing. He's only using you by the way? You really think he gives a slag about you? Your worthless fodder."

Starscream marched to take his argument to a physical level when suddenly a hand clasped on his shoulder from behind. Starscream stopped, relaxing slightly.

Oversight rounded around Starscream, cool and amused._ "Stop wasting your energy on them— it is not proper conduct. Slaves are the ones that are supposed to give their masters their energy and soul."_

Starscream smirked at the prospect promised him.

Oversight walked over to them silently, his footsteps mute, and approached Astrotrain with a smirk. He bent over; his hands braced on his knee plates and locked his optics with the Triple Changer who was ready to snap.

Astrotrain flinched to the side, his face trembling in rage when the demon reached out and cupped his chin. _"Cleaver little busybody aren't you, Astrotrain? Travelling all that way just to confirm your suspicions." _Oversight tsked. _"Unfortunately now you'll soon join the realm of the ghost I mock."_

He removed his hand from Astrotrain, the Triple Changer giving him a ravenous expression of anger. Oversight turned to Breakdown and smiled.

In a flash Oversight's appearance changed to the one that plagued Breakdown the most— Dead End's faceless doppelganger.

_"You made new friends with those clairaliences didn't you?" _the demon mocked in Dead End's voice. _"Those bugs certainly are pests aren't they? Putting you in this ghastly situation. One could debate to call them allies wouldn't you agree_?"

"Stop it!" Breakdown cried. "Stop using that voice!"

_"Does it bother you so?"_

"You got what you wanted— you scared us— LEAVE US ALONE!"

_"I haven't even begun…"_

Breakdown turned away, dimming his optics in both fear and embarrassment.

The demon resumed it's preferred camouflage and returned to Oversight's form and approached Starscream. It smiled.

_"I think the proper time has come to teach you about the basics of possessing,"_ he said.

Starscream smiled widely. It was a lesson he had been anticipating even though he would not be able to practice it without more spiritual training and after completely mastering ectoplasm. "Yes! I have long anticipated this—!"

Suddenly Starscream's happiness was ripped away by the dangerous frown encompassing Oversight's face. Oversight's glance turned up towards the ceiling. Oversight opened his chest, taking in a large intake of air. His face twisted with absolute disgust and rage as he looked back to Starscream. _"You will have to wait,"_ he told him.

Oversight fixed back to the ceiling. _"I suggest you begin thinking up an excuse. I smell Soundwave and he has brought a friend with him."_

Starscream also looked to the ceiling, his optic narrowinf slightly. "Who?"

Oversight's optics narrowed more, a growl rumbiling from his chest as he inhaled again, tasting the air, and said._ "I smell a clairvoyant..."_

_

* * *

_**A/N:** _Hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I hope it wasn't too hokey. Human/Decepticon conversations are not exactly my forte. (Shrug) Anyway, thanks for reading and see you all next time. :)_


	19. The Game Has Changed

**A/N:** _Happened to take a glance at the calendar and noticed that it is __The Poveglian Vendetta's__ belated one year anniversary. ^^ So, with that being said I want to once again thank you all for sticking with me for so long. You guys with your wonderful words really are the inspiration for me to keep on trucking. :D _

_The first half of this chapter takes a step back and begins after the scene in the cemetery—before John and Soundwave arrive at the base. Just an FYI_

_Enjoy! :D_

_

* * *

_

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 19**

**"The Game Has Changed"**

**

* * *

**

_St. Augustine, Florida  
Several Hours Previous..._

John was relieved that the Decepticon had questioned him if he required anything before he made his journey to Hell, because otherwise he wouldn't have had the courage to ask him. Even though it had been several hours since they had made their uncomfortable meeting in the cemetery, John still feared him greatly. He could barely keep his hand under control as he walked down sidewalk and back to his house on the humid noon day, holding the handle of the disguised Decepticon. He did his best to keep his movements minimal so he didn't swing the boom box even though he would of loved nothing better than to of pitched it and run. He couldn't though. The Decepticon was his judge now… it would be up to him if he lived or died.

He stopped in front of his house, returning back to it for the first time in a week. He stared at his house solemnly; it was the first stepping stone into purgatory where he would once again have to face the demon and the Decepticon sinner it partnered with.

He breathed in and let out a heavy exhale before he entered into his house, the door swinging open easily and hitting the wall with a bang. He stepped inside and made sure to close it as tight as he could.

His surroundings hit him again with unhappy reminders of the predicament he was in: the torn couch, the upside-down cross and bad memories of the encounter playing over and over again like a residual haunting. He shook his head and set the boom box on top of the black kitchen counter under the cherry cabinets. "I'll collect my things," he announced quietly, the side of his face looking to the side.

He waited for an answer, but the boom box issued no sound, he took it as a _'very well'_ and set off into the next room, disappearing as he rounded the hallway.

Soundwave scanned the surroundings of the human's dwelling, awaiting for the human to ready himself and collect his tools before they set off; also keeping a heat-lock on him in case he tried to use the opportunity to escape.

As he heard the human's cleaning stall activate, he found himself preoccupied with his doubts. The human seemed weary and unconfident; he didn't like that and he could sense that neither did Ravage. He didn't want to end up on the losing end of the gamble he had taken by putting his faith into a species inferior to him. However, he allowed some of his faith to stand by with Rumble who did have hope in the human.

_"I doubt this human,"_ Ravage communicated through the link._"He seems collected now but imagine him when we arrive to Headquarters. He is not suited for our environment. There must be someone else—someone Cybteronian—that has experience."_

_"We've been lookin' for cycles Ravage! He'll get use ta it,"_ countered Rumble, feeling as if he was also being criticized. _" 'Sides all fleshies are supposed ta be scared of us anyways."_

_"Not a good argument, Rumble," _Ravage pointed out.

_"Course of action; observe,"_ Soundwave said.

_"Otherwise to sit back and see what the worm can do. How… comforting," _Ravage replied sarcastically.

Meanwhile in the other room John rounded the corner of his bathroom and lazily walked himself to his closet, passing by the shelf of religious texts and relics, all of them seeming to mock him with inanimate eyes.

He was disgusted with himself— appalled that he had gotten himself into his own grave— and just the unnatural way of it all! The Decepticon was going to kill him… not many people got to realize that before they died

Still… there was that mocking speck of hope that he would be released if he exiled the ghost from their base. He didn't believe in hope, but for right now it was the only thing motivating him forward. Hope that he might actually be able to see his kid again. Otherwise, he might as well just grab the 9mm he kept for safe keeping behind the Bible and Roman Ritual and put it to his head.

More melancholy thoughts ran through his head as he dressed himself, pulling on a white shirt, dark blue jeans, black tennis shoes and placed his jean jacket aside on the messy bed.

He sighed and shuffled towards the closet for his case – the case full of necessary instruments he needed against demonic sprits on road trips— and large brown leather suitcase on the bed for examination. He paused, taking a moment to realize that after this step it was off to Decepticon Headquarters… and there was nothing he could do about it.

As a last attempt he went to the bathroom and to his drawers and packed whatever clothes and daily requirements he might need and placed them on the side. He opened the case and looked through it.

Panic set in.

All the necessary tools were in the case. Lyman had restocked the contents before John left his uncle's operation and he was very lucky that he hadn't come by to collect his case. He would have had to go get it back from him, and he wasn't an individual he respected… too overbearing.

He stared at the contents again, mentally checking that they were all there.

He all had the physical objects (rock salt and Dead Sea hand scrub, the keychain of relics, and the silver crucifix) and the perishables (the holy water and the bottle of blessed seawater) all of it doable for the demon that awaited him. He reached into the case and pulled out the gold and white Rosary beads; pure Catholic all the way from Spain…

He put it around his neck and tucked it into his shirt.

A wave of panic rushed through him, the world suddenly and mercilessly crashing down on him. "Shit," he scowled.

He let out a deep and heavy sigh.

_Time to go…_

_

* * *

_

John had lost a good day of sleep but insomnia never really bothered him. He was used to the minimal hours of sleep because of his unwanted gift; a desperate ghost had no respect for drywalls or the schedule of the living. Ever since he was a kid he was constantly interrupted by a voice in the middle of the night, or a shadow at the foot of his bed... an ectoplasmic touch shaking him awake. And even if he was in the least bit drowsy, he couldn't find the strength to succumb to sleep while inside the Decepticon's subspace compartment.

It was about what he had expected it to be: a pressurized cabin with blue and white florescent neon lighting shinning on him like a sauna and an annoying mechanical humming coming from the hydraulics and fluid coursing through it's body— it was also incredibly cramped.

He lay on his back for most of the duration of the flight back, housing the human in its chest compartment probably the most disgusting but sneaky and ingenious way of getting the human in without being spotted by the other Decepticons. For the most part, John compared the low ceiling compartment to a pine box— a TRON casket. He barely moved; only to shift his weight and get rid of the uncomfortable sticky preparation dripping down his back from the inescapable heat.

All John could do was wait.

"_I hate robots…" _John thought to himself, his humor failing to even reach him.

Might as well make the time worth it.

He reached into his shirt and pulled out the rosary beads and immediately began to pray, starting with the small crucifix and reciting the _Apostles' Creed_ in his head. He followed suit with the other beads (reciting _Our Father_, _Hail Mary_ and _Glory Be_), performing the correct procedure for praying to the Rosary.

It wouldn't matter if the demon wasn't there to watch him pray to the beads, he would read his mind and know that he did.

Prepared was the least he could be…

* * *

_Present..._

Starscream was in touble. He knew the consequences of _'abandoning the base'_ and he was well aware that Megatron wanted to question him about ordering the Triple Changers to remain in the base and therefore was hesitant about revealing himself- mostly because it would hurt. He needed a solid excuse that would convince Megatron— and Soundwave now that he had returned with the human he should have destroyed in the first place.

The demon had told him the dangers that humans with second-sight possessed— especially trained ones which was what Rumble had searched for and found. However the human could easily be disposed off, even with the telepath as his temporary guardian.

There was also the issue of Astrotrain and Breakdown. He knew of their fates but he was wondering if he should proceed with the demon's instructions_ without_ it's authorization. They knew too much…

_"Patience Second in Command, the time to get to them will arrive shortly. But first we must take care of this first order of business…"_

"You should have let me terminate the human— that way I wouldn't have to break my cover!"

_"You would have had to eventually."_

"But not because of a human."

Oversight came into view and flashed him with an annoyed expression. _"Stop your fucking gripping. We all must sacrifice our connivance at some point."_

Starscream tilted his head, a curious look crossing his face plates. "And _what _sacrifices did _you_ make? I'm sure they must have been_ horrid_," he returned sarcastically.

_"By allowing Soundwave and his ilk to live!"_ Oversight answered, a scowl on his mutated face. _"They were a pleasure to toy with but now they are starting to become formidable competition."_

"Then let them join Astrotrain and Breakdown," Starscream suggested.

_"That does sound like the appropriate method," _Oversight said, shrugging his optic brows_. "But that still means you will have to break cover and if you are caught, you best have a good story. May I suggest mind control— you did not know what you were doing. "_

"By you?"

_"Of course. Unless you know of another entity in your headquarters with the capabilities? In fact… I think I'll even assist you."_

Starsceam smirked lightly, paused and then asked: "And the clairvoyant?" questioned Starscream with an anticipating smile. "Whatever shall I do with him?"

Oversight smiled in return.

_"Whatever you want."_

_

* * *

_

With Starscream absent and a worthless Breakdown beside him, Astrotrain sought to take the initiative to escape. Determined to warn Megatron or whatever ally crossed his pass first of Starscream's deplorable treachery.

Carefully he braced his feet against whatever traction the floor provided him and used his back to push himself up, using the wall as a stabilizing friend. He grunted, the weight of the chains bearing down on him and the lack of refuel starting to work against him, but his determination surpassed the momentary uncomfortably.

Nevertheless he fell to his aft, but one try would not deter him. Breakdown watched, inwardly hoping the Triple Changer succeeded and wondering if he could aid him in anyway. But he was more drained than the Triple-Changer.

Astrotrain strained for another two tries before he was able to get himself to his feet. But it was far from over. He hopped, carefully at a time to avoid losing balance and headed towards the holographic door.

* * *

Albeit Blitzwing had taken breaks to refuel, he still had not stopped searching for his missing Triple Changer. He had questioned everyone in the base besides Megatron and Starscream of Astrotrain's whereabouts and could find no answers. Something wasn't right and he knew it. Especially when he saw Starscream round the corner, his usual snarky self mixed with an angered disposition.

Enraged and remembering the slagger had lied to keep them in the base, Blitzwing engaged him. "Hey fragger!" he called out, daring to address a high ranking officer in such a derogatory manner whilst he marched over to the Air Commander. "What game do you think you're playing?"

Starscream paused in his tracks, a curious and annoyed brow rising at the sudden outburst. "Oh?" he asked. "_Whatever _do you mean Blitzwing?"

"You know what I slaggin' mean! Why did you order us to remain here? Why we you tryin' to delay us?" Blitzwing demanded.

Starscream narrowed his optics for a moment, flashing Blitzwing with a pondering stare before they illuminated— remembering suddenly. "Because this whole ghost business is nothing but an indication of Megatron's failing resolve," explained Starscream with a cynical tone. "Believe it or not, but there are a lot of things I can tolerate… but an incompetent leader is _not _one of them and his belief in this nonsense just proves just how incompetent I always knew Megatron to be."

"Really Starscream?" came an ole too familiar voice behind the Second-in-Command.

Blitzwing smirked at the subtle panicked expression that crossed Starscream's face before he turned around to face Megatron.

"M-Megatron… I"

Starscream never got the opportunity to explain before a shot hit him straight in the left wing. Starscream recoiled, screamed, and fell to his aft.

"Please Starscream, don't stop listing my terrible qualities because of my presence," Megatron commented sarcastically aggressive. "Continue. I implore you too!"

Megatron reached down and grabbed the Seeker by the throat, lifting him to his feet and slamming in into the wall. "No? You have no more do you? Well, then let me list some of yours."

Megatron squeezed his throat a little harder, earning a strangled gasp from the Decepticon Commander. "Firstly, when I give an order only _I_ can belay it. Your rank is not high enough to undermine my authority!"

Blitzwing smirked. _Comeuppance was sweeter than a busty femme._

"Secondly, you are mistaken if you think you can stride back into headquarters and get away with it unscathed."

Megatron threw the Seeker to the ground, his arm cannon powering up with a deadly hum. The Seekers optics widened.

"Wait! Megatron, please!"

"And thirdly, you are contradictive Starscream. You claim to have fierce military prowess yet you face your just punishment like a sniveling Autobot!"

Before Megatron could lash he was thrown forward. Megatron instantly forgot about the scene and braced his hands against the wall, preventing himself from falling.

"You!" Megatron heard Blitzwing call out.

Megatron turned to see the individual he hated with the same ferocity as Starscream standing behind him. Oversight, as plain as day, and as solid as concrete.

Megatron's optics immediately widened. With an enraged growl he let the ghost taste the wrath of his weapon— which had no effect on Oversight, but massive effect on the wall behind him.

"He— he's real!" cried Starscream; an actor waiting for his cue. "The ghost exists! He's been here all along!"

Oversight smirked at Starscream, only the Seeker and the demonic entity aware of the inside joke. Oversight suddenly lifted an arm, and like magician presenting a trick waved it through the air.

Starscream pretended to fight back as felt the heat of the demon's ectoplasm wrap around his thruster heel and pull him. Starscream screamednd let the demon drag him around the corner until the he let go and allowed Starscream to stand to his knees. A smirk casting itself on his face as he remained around the corner hidden from view. However the demon had other plans._ "Go deal with Soundwave now. I'll be there…"_

Starscream complied and headed down the corridor to find the stairs, no longer worrying about showing his '_innocence'_ to the Cons.

Oversight turned back to Megatron who was awaiting it's next move. _"My turn,"_ he said.

Oversight used up the remainder of his strength and sailed through Megatron, causing the Decepticon leader to feel the energy ripped from his spark momentarily and hit the wall hard behind him.

"Megatron," Blitzwing said, immediately going to attend to his leader's side. Megatron stubbornly removed his arm from Blitzwing's grasp and lifted himself up. He shot himself to his feet and planted himself in an aggressive battle stance, prepared for a fight that the ghost would refuse to give him. He hated how this thing preferred to have the _'last word'_. To strike and never allow the other to do so to it; it was aggravating that he couldn't at least try to fight it, but to let it win with the first punch. To the ego of the ex-gladiator, it was cowardly and insulting not to face your opponent and he felt anger towards the entity and to himself.

"Bah!" And with that he turned and left, heading down the corridor of his choosing without a care in the universe, just an inconsolable rage that engulfed his entire form, leaving Blitzwing alone in the hall along with two unaccounted for bystanders to the ordeal.

Vortex and Swindle poked their heads out of the hole from Megatron's shot, the wall to the room ruined by the Decepticon Commander and the ghost.

Swindle turned to Blitzwing as Vortex continued to observe the hole in the wall, "Still can't find Astrotrain, huh?"

Blitzwing scowled and shook his head.

Swindle grimaced slightly, his processor unable to come up with anything to say; rarely was he ever sympathetic towards a brute like Blitzwing, but if it was one of his fellow Combaticons missing, he was sure he would feel some sort of loss as well. "He'll turn up…"

Blitzwing scoffed at the friendly and unlikely assurance. "Yah. Sure he will."

Their attention was suddenly directed to the elevator when they heard the door open and something crash loudly to the ground.

Astrotrain turned his body to his back and pressed the back of his head to the ground to get a better view of who was in the hall.

Blitzwing's visor brightened at the sight of his fellow Triple Changer in chains, obviously the victim of subduing him. He rushed over and pulled his friend out of the way of the elevator, Vortex and Swindle arriving to assit as well.

"What the frag _happened_ to you?" questioned Vortex, looking down at the chains and the bindings with curiosity; inspecting the work.

"Starscream!" cried a furious Astrotrain, his optics alight with rage. "That's what happened to me!"

"What?" said Swindle.

Astrotrain looked down at the chains, motioning to them. "Get me out of these things— NOW!"

"Calm down and clamp it down," Vortex said, "It's nothing but a simple wielding job to bind the chains together. You said Starscream did this?"

"Yes!"

"Hmm..." Vortex replied. "He _actually _did a good job."

"Why?" seethed Blitzwing.

Astrotrain turned to his fellow Triple Changer. His optics slanted in anger. "He's working with the ghost. He's betraying us."

The three mechs stared stunned at each other for a brief moment, all trying to understand the other's expression and what they were thinking. Vortex suddenly scoffed and replied, "Somehow that doesn't seem so surprising."

"But… we just saw him get dragged away by the thing," retorted Swindle, still trying to make sense of it; sure it was Starscream, but teaming up with a ghost?

Blitzwing smirked bitterly. "Yeah… right before he was about to get slagged by Megatron."

Swindle opened his mouth to say something, but declined; his mouth closing to produce a silent 'Oh...'

"He was acting," Vortex added.

"No slag," Blitzwing said.

Astrotrain turned to Swindle, "You need to call the Stunticons. He has Breakdown as well."

Their optics widened. There were _two_ prisoners?

"Why did he capture both of you and why?" asked Swindle.

"Because we know what the ghost really is," Astrotrain responded, his tone dead serious. "And it's not Cybertronian. It did not like us knowing that it might be defeated by human methods. It's weaker than we think it is and it wanted to keep us thinking that."

The three mechs looked at each other, if they weren't puzzled and doubtful before, they certainly were now.

Swindle shook his head. "No… it can't be human. There is no possible way."

"Well it is," Astrotrain replied, bitterness in his tone as well. He grimaced. "Look, I do not have every detail but I had a very important one which is why I was captured. Breakdown has more information than I do and I know he has more than what he told me—we need to get him to and get a plan. I don't know what it wanted from us, but I'm positive that it was going to kill us eventually."

"The ghost?" asked Blitzwing.

"Yes," replied Astrotrain. "Get him before Starscream gets back and finds me missing."

"Alright," Swindle said, a rush of imperativeness running through him as he activated his comm link, contacting Motormaster.

Astrotrain told him the storage room and the level he was on and Swindle passed it along. Vortex meanwhile began to cut the binds off Astrotrain, and while the copter con set to work Blitzwing couldn't help but give Astrotrain a jester smile and say, "Astrotrain… how do you get yourself into these messes?"

Astrotrain narrowed his optics, but despite the situation, he couldn't help but smile back a little.

* * *

As soon as Soundwave shut the doors of his quarters, he quickly sought to rid himself of the flesh creature inside his chest compartment.

He pressed the button on his shoulder, his movements catching the attention of Buzzsaw, Ratbat and Laserbeak who had been left behind to keep a close optic on Frenzy, and ejected Ravage, Rumble and the human.

Like some sort of ridiculous and hazardous amusement park ride, the floor beneath John suddenly punched forward faster than a bullet, physics causing the human to slide across the 'floor' and into the air.

John's back arched naturally and his legs twisted and kicked for stabilization that the air would not provide. John's hand still clasped the suitcase, the bag unfortunately sending his body into a nose dive from the weight until the entire environment jerked and stabilized.

John inhaled, his breaths shaky as his focus readjusted. He felt tremendous pressure around his body and looked down to see why. He sighed and pressed his hand against the blue fingers for support, his suitcase dangling over the side of Soundwave's enclosed fist. He was surprised it didn't rip his arm out of his socket…

John felt himself being lowered, his equilibrium and the colors of the room whooshing up like Wonka's glass elevator. He felt the bottom of his shoes touch the ground before the was quickly released, the sudden movement causing him to feel disorientated and collapse to the ground.

He had a headache, his good eye blurred painfully against the dark room and his body ached from lying down for an extended period of time, but even then he could not ignore the intense and horrifying atmosphere he felt the second he was ejected out of the tape player's chest.

If he had any desire to sleep, the intoxicating atmosphere of the Decepticon Headquarters was enough to shoot him awake. He had never been a place whose atmosphere stunk of such intense hostility before in his life (well, maybe Bobby Mackey's). There were many haunted places he had visited, many cases of real demonic possession he had attended to (back in the good ole' days) and many cases with ghosts as evil as the next… but never did he think he could find all those qualities or find himself in the Decepticon Headquarters, probably the most dangerous place for a human on Earth.

He started to question his qualifications more than he had moderately done before arriving to their Headquarters; maybe he wouldn't be quite equipped both literally and mentally for the task at hand.

Unfortunately for John, he wasn't the only one starting to question his capabilities.

Soundwave could sense the human's overwhelming weariness and that casted an immediate frown on his faceplate. Ravage and Rumble sensed it as well and couldn't help but glance at their creator for some kind of reassurance.

As John rose to his feet, he suddenly found himself face to face with more of the robot's pets.

The three fliers, shocked at the sudden presence of a natural intruder— but aware of reason of presence— flew from their perch and surrounded the human and stared at him as if he was their new chew toy.

John took a half step back, the suitcase hitting his side and making him feel like an unwanted traveling salesman with a gun in his face. No words came to mind— intimidated was an understatement.

Laserbeak tilted his head at the startled piece of meat, his optics narrowing as he spoke through the link. _"So... this is the creature that will be getting rid of our malevolent entity?" _Laserbeak questioned, _"Interesting choice of fleshling you have selected Rumble. Already do I see flaws with him."_

"Shuddup Laserbeak," snapped Rumble, outloud in English. "Fleshie just haven't started yet. He's here now ta get rid of it for good," Rumble turned to John, his face dropping into one of pure seriousness. "Right?"

Robotic eyes fixed on John from each cardinal direction; feeling them on all sides awaiting his answer. John said nothing, exhaling through his nose and calming him; allowing him to think more rationally. He best get used to the sight of robotic organisms staring at him, the sooner he got used to it, the better he would be focusing on the demoniac.

But procedure first…

He turned around to face Soundwave, his gaze dropping to the floor and then back up to him— no use in prolonging anything.

"When I do a case I am required to be as skeptical as possible," John began, his words sounding professional but meek. He felt the birds and bat glance at each other, small computerized sounds softly issuing from their vocalizers.

"Even though I'm sure it's a demon— I always _have_ to double-check"— John sighed and shrugged— "Standard procedure," he elaborated.

Soundwave didn't reply and John took his silence as an indication to continue. John dropped to one knee and brought the suitcase in front of him, feeling like a sacrificial victim kneeling before Gods. He ignored his trepidation and brought the case out in front of him. He opened it and grabbed the contents he would need.

"I'll skip asking you if you robots have any mental illnesses— you're not human after all and probably wouldn't suffer from any mental diseases or wouldn't come under attack because he's an Evangelist. So with that out of the way, have you had any experiences with haunting prior to your… encounters?"

A wave of annoyance seemed to wash over every non-human present. John knew it was ridiculous to ask, especially when Rumble reminded him again of their history.

"I already told ya fleshie. Nothin' like this has happened before," he answered tacitly.

"Then you have infestation," John told him. "It means you must have gone somewhere and the demon attached to your brother. Where _did_ you go?"

Rumble shifted slightly before he answered: "Poveglia Island."

John turned his head sharply at the name, his expression turning into humored disbelief— surely he must be joking. The uncomfortable expression on the robot's face indicated that it was anything but a joke, causing John's face to drop from humored disbelief to just repulsion.

"Poveglia..." John scoffed, shaking his head. "Super…"

"Enough with tha'," Rumble returned briskly, in no mood for a flashback, "So wa' are ya gonna do?"

"What I first need to do is prove what piety this demon is," John said, his eye focused on the case and it's contents. "Since the majority of demons are Christian or Catholic—and you went to Italy— I will test his resistance to the symbols of the two religions. Starting with this."

He raised the plastic quart-size bottle, the makings of a small painted gold cross on it, "This is holy water. It's water that has been blessed. Water also represents the word and power of God. If I throw this on a demoniac— like your brother—he will react to it. That is just one example."

John looked up to see if his words confused them, he found some doubt in the new pets but none in Soundwave and Rumble. He continued.

"I have relics and medallions from other cultures if the holy water does not work and I will have to go through them one by one to see which one he hates the most," John said, holding up a chain full of small keychain-sized symbols from various cultures; Hinduism, Islam, Buddhism, and even a wiccan pentagram, etc.

"I also have salt and seawater," John said, his focus on the suitcase. "It'll work no matter the religion."

"Why?" questioned Rumble.

"Salt is Earth's supernatural repellant," John answered, "Even if this demon is not religious, I can at least fucking torture him till he wants to leave."

John was only half-surprised that the he received an approving nod from not only Soundwave, but from the pets as well. In a way he shouldn't have been surprised at all. They were Decepticons; the concept of physical torture probably gave them a hard-on. Still…John couldn't help but let his thoughts wonder how bad this demon had taunted them to make them anticipate the thought of torturing a demoniac— a demoniac related to them.

John reached in and pulled out the rosary beads he had blessed on the way over, he looked at them but then put them back in his pocket. John closed the case, the suitcase in one hand, holy water in the other and his cross swinging under his shirt. He turned back to Soundwave, indicating that he was ready.

Soundwave rounded the group and walked to the closet door, opening it to reveal Frenzy; his body slumped forward and his head down keeping his optics from view.

John inhaled, pausing before he turned to Rumble. "What's his name again?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Frenzy," answered Rumble, trying his best to ignore his brother's presence. It was so much easier to be ignorant behind closed doors.

"Alright," John nodded before he walked forward, the animals allowing him to move much to their displeasure.

He walked... and walked. The distance to the closet seemingly a marathon, however and unfortunately, there was an end. He reached the entrance of the door, disapproving of the uncomfortable robotic eyes upon him.

"It's best if I don't have, um, have family members watch," John said with a frown. He looked up at Soundwave.

Soundwave said nothing; just stared blankly at him.

_"This son of a bitch is like the ghost of Christmas future,"_ thought John to himself, remarking his silence.

John entered and Soundwave followed, shutting the closet door behind him.

The first thing that John noticed was that the demon wasn't present, sure he could still sense the palpable grasp on the victim but the demon was not present to pull it's marionette's strings; a shadow would have been present to signal full demonic possession. John's first guess immediately landed on partial.

Still... the demoniac would react despite wither the demon was inside him or not. Plus… the demon would feel it was well.

John inhaled and set his case down, the holy water still in his hand. Carefully he walked towards the slacked figure of the Transformer, keeping a hesitant distance from him.

He could see why Rumble called him his brother; for the most part they were identical. The corner of his mouth lifted in an indifferent grin_. It doesn't matter… just get to business._

John opened the bottle by twisting the cap. He pocketed the piece of plastic and then quickly moved his thumb over the opening. He eyed the Con, inhaled a breath and steadied himself before he took a step forward.

He raised the bottle and splashed the holy water onto the Decepticon, his thumb only letting droplets escape— it would be enough.

Supernatural steam rose from it's body as the Con shot to life— screaming. But the digitized scream didn't bother the clairvoyant who continued to mercilessly sprinkle the possessed mech.

Frenzy writhed in pain, the holy water feeling like acid on his form. Soundwave stood by and watched, almost conflicted to aid his cassette... it didn't seem like the demon was tricking him, it seemed as if Frenzy himself was in genuine pain.

John stopped when he saw the Con come through the barrier of the demon's wall. Frenzy with his head down, whimpered. John mouth pressed into a stern line. _A sobbing Decepticon... now that certainly was something..._

"Stop... _please_ stop, he's not even here!" Frenzy pleaded. "He's gone... he's gone..."

John didn't buy it. "No he's not."

Soundwave was amazed. The human's methods actually worked. Frenzy was repellent to the _'holy water'_. Also the human had managed to do something that Soundwave wasn't able to do for cycles. He was able to pull Frenzy out of the demon's grasp. He knew in his spark that it was Frenzy, and he knew that it meant that the water had weakened the demon. His gamble placed him on the right path to Frenzy's salvation. The human wouldn't die by his hand for now.

Frenzy cried out again when John proceeded with the holy water, stopping for nothing… except for a knock at the door.

Soundwave turned towards it as well, an ominous feeling coursing through hic circuitry and little to is knowledge John had the same feeling as well. Soundwave glanced at the human and after a moment of reluctance left the human alone. Soundwave headed towards the closet door, opened and closed it and then headed to his quarter doors.

"Identify," Soundwave called to the mech on the other side.

"Starscream," replied the screechy voice.

Soundwave narrowed his optics from behind his visor, recalling the ghost hunter's story that it was Starscream and the demon that had attacked him.

"State your business."

Soundwave was stunned; he honestly did not expect Starscream to kick down his own door on him. Soundwave fell onto his back with the weight of his metal door upon him. His cassettes roared to life, preparing for an attack by the Seeker.

Starscream stood on the other side of the door, the natural darkness of Soundwave's room shadowing his front as he the light of the hall brought out the shape of his form, giving him a devilish appearance. His red optics flashed with malice as he gazed down at the Communications Officer. Finally... after millions of years, he was going to do what he had always wanted but never had a legitimate excuse...

"I'm here for your fleshling," Starscream grinned, his optics flashing with wrath. He knew that Soundwave would not give the human to him so easily and the Seeker was prepared for that. "And to rip your spark from your chest."

Soundwave brought his foot under the door and bent it out, using his foot to propel the door at his enemy with enough force to knock the Seeker into the hall as if he had walked into a garden rake. Starscream replied with a startled screech which was drowned out by the sound of the door crashing to the ground in the hall.

Starscream touched his hand to his forehead, feeling the dent as Soundwave stood, presenting himself into a battle stance, his cassettes ready to defend him at his back.

Starscream tilted his head like a cat, a disapproving and sinister smile growing on his face. With speed that honored his rank, he charged at Soundwave, tackling him around the midsection and crashing him into the wall on the other side of the room.

However… it wasn't the only battle taking place…

John had looked up when he heard the familiar screechy voice, muffled behind the doors and he never should have turned his back…

He felt the demon before the blow came. John sailed through the air and hit the wall, the attack so fast he didn't even comprehend what happened until he rolled painfully on the ground... and felt the demon's foot pressing into his back.

_"Do you have the slightest inclination how much holy water hurts, John?"_ came the baritone voice over his head.

John ignored him and looked up… the bottle of holy water spilled in front of him in a puddle, but that didn't mean it wasn't still useful…

The demon must have seen what he was looking at or just didn't like to be ignored, either way he gave John a quick kick to the face, rolling the clairvoyant on his back with a burning eye socket.

_"Tremendously..." _he hissed, finishing.

Soundwave threw back a punch while Starscream remained distracted with Ravage clawing at his back. As soon as the Seeker flung the cat from him and into the nearest wall, Starscream turned to meet Soundwave's fist which broke his olfactory sensor instantly. Starscream cried out in pain, but not before giving Soundwave a good kick into his pelvis, knocking the tape deck backwards.

Starscream was able to recover before Soundwave and raised his null ray, intending to immobilize him. He shot, hit a target but not the right one. Laserbeak dove in front of the shot, took the full brunt of it and dropped from the air like a rock, the condor now completely stunned and out-of-the-game like his other cassettes.

A flash of anger rocked Soundwave's form, enough to make him launched his body at the Seeker, grabbed him and fling him over his shoulders and onto his computer desk like a professional wrestler.

Meanwhile as Soundwave was beginning to get the upper hand, John was on the losing side. An elbow draped across his chest painfully as the demon held John in the air and against the wall. John struggled against him, the cut over his good eye dripping down his face and neck.

The demon which presented himself as a simple dark figure with gaps for eyes, held him there. _"How's your daughter? Does she ask about me? I was thinking about paying dear little Holly another visit after I tear out your intestines. I love a virgin on the second rendezvous."_

John scowled viciously at him, almost tempted to spit in his face. However, he had another blow that was better.

John reached inside his pockets, pulled out the rosary beads and pressed them into the demon's forearm.

The demon recoiled drawing back his arm and releasing John. As John hit the ground, the beads still clutched in his hands, he took a moment too long to catch his breath— the demon recovered and gave him a solid backhand across the face. John hit the ground again, groaning with his eye clamped shut.

The demon's head lifted, sensing the presence of other mechs approaching to the scene of the loud altercation taking place outside the closet. The demon lips tugged into a smile. For a moment he was thinking about leaving Starscream to the mercy of his comrades (proving to the Seeker the cost of trusting demons) however, such betrayal could wait for a more opportune moment.

John pressed his hands to the cold purple floor, a thread of crimson mixed with saliva dripping from his mouth to the floor. The demon smiled again, having a much better idea of killing John than by using his own claws right then and there.

Soundwave used the back of his hand and hit it across Starscream's face, sending the Seeker to the ground as Soundwave pivoted back into balance on his heels.

Starscream turned sharply from the ground, meeting the Communication Officer's visor with extreme hatred.

Starscream suddenly let out a sardonic laugh, throwing his head back. "You partnered with the wrong organism…" Starscream spat at him. "You can't stop it. Your precious cassette is going to offline and you know it."

Soundwave narrowed his optics as his dented fists clenched with anger. Funny… for an astro-second Soundwave could have swore it was the demon speaking through the Seeker.

"What in the name of the Unmaker is going on?"

Soundwave and Starscream turned to the sound of the familiar voice.

Megatron was not alone either, he was accompanied by Breakdown and the Triple Changers who he had just told him a very interesting story.

"So… you are a moronic traitor indeed aren't you my loyal Second-in-Command," Megatron's addressed, his voice holding malicious amusement but his expression betraying that he was anything but amused.

Megatron stopped himself, his optics narrowing even more as he entered the room; his fusion cannon covering the corners of Soundwave's doorframe in violet light. "But wait... you are not my loyal Second-in-Command _are_ you? No... You are the _ghost's_ underling!"

Megatron leveled his fusion cannon at the cowering Seeker. "Well then— forever remain with him!"

Megatron paused when he saw the Seeker's optics shift from red to black. _"Three's a company—why don't you join us too Megatron!"_

The possessed Seeker leapt for the silver mech, hands drawn into claws and preparing to lash out. Soundwave was faster however and grabbed the Air Commander, holding him in a head lock.

Megatron lowered his weapon at the sight of the insane mech, making unnatural low and animalistic sounds erupt from his vocalizer as he struggled madly against the blue mech's restraint.

Then as suddenly as he went insane, he offlined and slacked into Soundwave's grasp. They were stunned at the display they witnessed. There was only one answer to what had happened…

Starscream had been controlled by the demon all along.

However Astrotrain and Soundwave didn't buy it, but it would not matter either way if Megatron believed it which seemed to have the silver leader on the dividing line.

Still… not even Starscream falling into the demon's control could hold their interest…

John had heard the commotion next door, he had heard the other digitized voices of more Decepticons. He was very uncomfortable with the idea of them present in the other room— it could mean his death if they found him right then and now… and the demon knew it as well.

To his horror the door of the closet opened by itself— drawing their attention.

John took a step back, wide-eyed, but completely frozen.

He moved, but not by his own command.

_"Don't be shy..."_

He felt claws scratch down his neck under the collar of his coat and shirt— flinging him out of the closet and into the room at Soundwave's heels.

He landed face-down on the floor, his grunts the last sound issued into the deathly silent room. John could feel their red eyes upon him, no doubt the new Cons startled and angry by their discovery of a human in their midst.

John slowly leveled his gaze up, daring to stare up at them.

Every single emotion a human could experience hit him like a freight train when he looked into the optics of the Decepticon Leader who looked down at the him like the most disgusting thing that it had ever lay eyes on.

John felt like he was going to be sick as the cold and unforgiving realization set in…

He was dead. The Decepticon Leader was the reaper who had come to take his life…

And John knew in the twisted pit of his stomach that there were would be no room for negotiations.

* * *

**A/N:** _Apologies for the cliffhanger and energon cookies for anyone who can guess what episode 'how do you get into these messes came from'. Lol, I told you I hated OC's—even my own. :P Hope you enjoyed the chapter and see you next time!_


	20. Ball and Chain

**A/N:** Yeah... I know how long it's been...

I am very, very sorry about how long this chapter has taken. I had my demons to deal with before I could even write about them. Anyways, I am so, so sorry and I took so long. :( Never again will I be absent for that long.

I want to thank the few of you that PM'd me though and tried to encourage me to update and keep up with the story. You know who you are and you all have really helped me get back on track. So thank you to those of you and thank you for being patient.

* * *

**_THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA_**

**Chapter 20**

**"Ball and Chain"**

* * *

"Just what makes that little ole ant/ think he'll move the rubber tree plant/Everyone know and ant/can't/move a rubber tree plant."

Frank Sinatra_ (High Hopes)_

* * *

He didn't dare to look at the ground, nor did he dare to move where he stood— hell he thought breathing alone was an insult— and after the agonizing seconds dragged on he couldn't even remember the reason how he got plucked into his horrible situation.

He did know one thing; however...the look upon Megatron's face indicated to the human that he was a complete and total surprise to him. It would certainly clarify why Soundwave had secured him in his chest compartment before he arrived at his quarters... hiding him like some sort of illegal pet.

John shivered involuntarily... _Looks like Daddy had found the stray puppy he had been hiding... and he would certainly die like a dog._

Megatron glanced down at the human with utter disgust and shock, but his repulsion for the human was not as strong as his disappointment, anger and confusion for his Third in Command.

Did the most loyal soldier of his entire command dare to bring a human into his headquarters without authorization?

Megatron's chest heaved, his slanted optics still fixed on the human that dared to meet his gaze ever so hesitantly. He did not like secrets and he certainly didn't like secrets kept specifically from him— by Soundwave of all mechs! His angry gaze lifted to Soundwave's visor.

"Soundwave. Explain this!" he seethed viciously, pointing a strong finger at the human who flinched.

Soundwave chin lifted as he vented a minimal amount of air to cool his circuitry, trying to think of an acceptable excuse quickly. He knew he went against Megatron orders when he had chosen human tactics and he knew that Megatron would never conform to them. However if Soundwave had not seen his cassette falter under the human's holy water, he would have terminated Lancaster himself for wasting his time, but since that was not the case, he was going to have to do something he never would have thought he would in a million solar cycles...

Save a human.

Soundwave's silence seemed to of annoyed him, because he couldn't see any other reason why he would reach forward.

John panicked and backed up rapidly, twisted his damaged torso and attempted to run. He managed a strangled _'no'_ before Megatron grabbed him.

"Give me a reason why I should not crush this insect IMMEDIATLY!" Megatron roared, his hand gripping the human in a threatening hold. John sucked his breath in instantly as his hands pressed against Megatron's fingers, pain already starting to enflame his abdomen.

"Failed to locate supernatural information in Cybertronian archives. Next solution: search through human archives for information," Soundwave began. Despite that he had no emotional attachment to John, he still needed that human to cure Frenzy.

Megatron seemed displeased with his first answer and displayed it by squeezing—John groaned loudly in an expelled breath.

"I'm surprised Soundwave that you would chose to degrade yourself by using human methods—and didn't I specifically order you _not_ to? Did you not agree that they were inferior?"

Soundwave gave no answer; Megatron had a valid point.

Megatron scowled and squeezed again, John's functional eye widened in pain and gave his first painful gasp for air.

Still Soundwave remained silent for yet another moment, contemplating the next words he should use. However when all possible excuses crossed his processor, he found none that would pass for suitable.

There was nothing he could admit except the truth.

"My previous assumptions about human methods: wrong."

John braced for yet another squeeze, but was startled when Megatron ceased for this round. Whatever Soundwave had said to his leader, he didn't care— he was grateful he could still breath.

Megatron's grip loosened, enough to return air to John's lungs and decrease his suffering. John exhaled heavily and dared to look at their expressions for an explanation.

Stunned. All of them were.

He looked at the large bulky purple subordinates who glanced at each other, their expressions different from one another. One was of confusion and the other was fairly monotone. Instead the round helmet mech glanced down at the human with a look of envious discontent.

Now John was curious... what _did_ he say to them? Did it have anything to do with him? It must have because after a pause the Decepticon leader glanced down at the human in his hand and then back to Soundwave with a deplorable look.

"I must say Soundwave," Megatron began, his features cross, "That I am rather surprised... but not at all in the least bit amused."

Soundwave said nothing, accepting his leader's words.

"Now tell me, because I am rather curious, how did this piece of filth persuade you otherwise?" Megatron demanded, lifting his hand to indicate John.

Soundwave listed the events mentally, making sure that his defenses had solid background. "Human is specifically trained in banishing malevolent entities."

Megatron scoffed. "Is that so?" he questioned, doubtful. "Insects demand those type of occupations do they?"

"Affirmative," Soundwave answered. "Entity is of human origins—not Cybertronian. Conclusion: human methods are the most appropriate."

Megatron scowled slightly, "Really?" he questioned, his optic bridges rising in disagreement.

Astrotrain couldn't help but glance down at the human with mixed curiosity. He recalled Breakdown's words about what Kickback had told him; that human methods were what were needed, however, unlike Blitzwing who he could tell from a glance that he didn't believe in human methods, Astrotrain found himself split down the middle. His prejudice wouldn't allow him to immediately fall on the human's side like Breakdown did, but it was hard to shoot down that Soundwave had faith in it. After all... Soundwave would have already killed the human if his methods didn't work.

The human glanced back up at him again, his beady little eye squinted in an analytical stare; as if the human knew something about him that he didn't. Astrotrain lifted the corner of his lip into a scowl... he didn't like the human staring at him. The human winced when Megatron squeezed his grip a little harder, bringing him back to the conversation.

"How can you be so sure Soundwave?" demanded Megatron, not at all convinced. "Have you yourself seen these puny methods in action?"

"Affirmative," was Soundwave's immediate response. "They are effective."

Megatron's gaze narrowed into a suspicious but humored expression. He looked down at the human for a moment, contemplating.

"Is that so?" Megatron questioned. John didn't look up at him, but could feel Megatron's red eyes staring down at him like a shark would to a tuna.

The next actions by the Decepticon Commander were unexpected, especially to the human who thought that certain death was inevitable. Megatron lowered his hand and pitched the human away, rolling him to Soundwave.

John stopped on his stomach, his hands braced against the cold purple floor of the Communication Officer's quarters and in the middle of every Decepticon's attention.

"Show me what you think you can do, fleshling," he commanded. "Prove your importance and why you think you deserve to live."

John's eye widened as he rose to his feet, his veins coursing with frozen blood. It felt as surreal as a dream; he couldn't believe that Megatron had let him go, he didn't even comprehend Megatron's words at all.

Megatron's optics narrowed impatiently when the human refused to move. "I said show me insect or I will crush you under my foot like the miserable bug you are!"

John comprehended _those_ words, a shiver crawled down his spine and he immediately turned around, heading for the closet door; his breaths heavy and his feet feeling as if they were encase in cement. Sweat rolled down his neck and out of every pore in his body. He felt like he was the Devil's jester and forced to entertain or he would send him to the damndest circle of Hell. _As if I'm not already there..._

Megatron turned towards Astrotrain and Blitzwing, the human had unexpedtly distracted Megatron that he had forgotten about the one that upset him more than any human could.

"Blitzwing, Astrotrain. Remove this junk pile and place it in the brig," Megatron commanded as he purposely stepped on Starscream's fallen form; insulting him even when he was unconscious. "I'd like a word with him once I'm done here."

The Triple Changers nodded and grabbed an arm of their unconscious Air Commander and pulled him away.

John let a small sigh of relief and stopped to watch them drag Starscream away. He didn't like to admit it to himself, but the red jet was the one he feared the most.

The leader of the Decepticons glowered down at him, wondering why he wasn't moving. John inhaled, his breath stuck in his throat as if he was swallowing a handful of gravel.

He felt and heard them following behind him, their footsteps like thunder on the metallic purple floor compared to his mousy steps.

He shivered involuntarily and forced himself to breath with control; he needed to be focused and reserved. He swallowed, seeming to think that small action would cure the thunderous pounding in his chest from his racing heart.

He never knew a human could be so petrified. Sure the first time with the demon and his sinner accomplice making a house call was frightening, and the navy blue mech kidnapping him and forcing him to give a demonstration was even more challenging on his nerves, but having to put on a show for the most powerful Decepticon on Earth was far more terrifying than anything else his imagination could create— to John, Megatron made the demon appear as harmless as a kitten.

He entered the room again and felt his eye sting, something dark and vicious pouring across the lid an onto the top of his cheek bone until it stopped at his choppy beard. He rubbed at it as if it was a mosquito and looked down when he felt it on his hands.

Blood... He hadn't even realized he had been bleeding. He touched his forehead and grimaced. A cut from the scuffle. He sighed heavily... he would have gladly preferred the demon. A demon was nothing compared to the machines staring him down.

Nervously he walked over to his spilled holy water and dipped his hands into it, rubbing it and spreading the blessed water over his hands.

"What's it doing?" Breakdown questioned, looking at his fellow Decepticons with confusion.

"Entity is repellent against liquid. Human is using it to draw entity from Frenzy," answered Soundwave.

Megatron gave a hard glance over at his lieutenant before slowly turning back to the chained cassette that lay at the back of the bleak closet. Soundwave could sense his leader's confusion.

"Frenzy is being controlled by entity. Uses his body as an energy source. Entity is parasitic," Soundwave explained.

"That's one way to put it," Breakdown quipped quietly to himself.

Megatron didn't hear the Stunticon, instead he stared once again at Soundwave, studying him like a police interrogator putting together's a criminal's actions. His head tilted and a small tug out of the corner of his mouth informed that he was bitterly amused. "I'm surprised Soundwave... I don't think I have ever had a memory of you being as desperate as now."

Soundwave turned and glanced at his leader and not even his unreadable facial façade could lie.

John drew near the chained cassette. He had to hand it to the blue one, whether he had seen it or in a movie or did it on instinct, binding the possessed was good step and he had to at least thank it for that... he would have no power against it if the demon sought to control his body and lash out at him; he was a rabbit against a bear on steroids.

John paused for a moment, evaluating his plan. Sure he could walk up to possessed and put his hands on his forehead... but what if he awoke and broke his wrists? He needed to be smarter and he needed to be quick and effective about it... he could sense the Decepticon leader growing impatient.

"I need salt," John said, his voice dry and meek.

However Soundwave heard the human's voice and stepped towards the outside of his closet and softly kicked the suitcase inside and toward the human. John was surprised that the Decepticon had any respect to carefully slide it over and not punt the suitcase and send the objects scattering all over the place.

He inhaled heavily again and walked over to his suitcase, retrieving his salt. He quickly went towards the cassette, thinking that as long as he was quick about it he could trap it while he had the chance. However if the demon had faced holy water before, he probably knew the significance of trapping it in a salt circle.

Wait... what was he thinking? He just wanted to prove why he was useful to the Decepticons. Just throw salt and run like hell.

_Stop getting ahead of yourself, John... you know that you're not even the solution moron._

Megatron quirked a metallic brow when he saw the human work and form a circle of salt with Frenzy in the middle; the Decepticon leader completely ignorant of the element in the supernatural realm.

Megatron turned to Soundwave doubtfully... however he was interrupted when heard a scream from the small Casseticon.

John jumped back and landed on his back, pain rippling through his body.

John quickly climbed to his feet as fast as he could Frenzy did, a pure demoniac staring at him with malevolence. Frenzy grinned and walked towards the human. "You flinched," it teased with a smirk and stepped forward towards the paranormal investigator through the small gap that John failed to complete.

He stopped... interrupted by the chains around his wrists. He glanced down at them annoyingly before he looked back to John and flashed him a smile.

He pulled against the restraints, stretching the metal of the links and refusing to give up until they snapped. The leader of the Decepticons watched with alarm, honestly startled by Frenzy's sudden strength.

John panicked and without thinking he stood and threw the handful of salt right into the face of the red and black Decepticon.

Steam rose from the surface of it's metal plates, the demoniac powerless against the natural repellent. He screamed and covered his face as a sulfuric smell permeated off the smoke and continued to smog the air. The demoniac fell to his aft and rolled, screaming in pain, and to John's amazement back into the circle.

John acted quickly and hobbled to the salt. He grabbed it and immediately began circling the demon in—killing two birds with one stone. However, the demon managed to get one last act of defiance in.

Frenzy's hand swiped the air, his fingers bent into claws.

Just as John finished he recoiled from pain, his hand shooting up to cup his cheek, and fell back onto his back. John looked down to see his own blood staining his hand— three marks— adorning his face but John knew what it's intent was... the demon had promised him after all.

"You missed," John said, his expression purely monotone.

The demoniac snarled viciously—for once out of words.

Suddenly he sprang to life, exploding in fury and disapproval for being caged. He swiped the air, claws extended and cursed obscenities at the human— at Soundwave—and promised to destroy them all until the demon finally settled and chose to do nothing but give them all a malicious look.

Breakdown looked at the scene with amazement, he knew that human methods were the preferred choice but he didn't expect to see the human trap it so easily; it made them feel obsolete.

The Decepticons left the demon without a single glance.

John glanced back at the red and black possessed Decepticon. A unwavering feeling of uncertainty washing over him. The demon may have put up a resistance to being caged, but there was something that seemed too easy.

Almost as if the demon _wanted_ to be trapped.

"Till the next time Lancaster..." was the demon's last remark. "Sleep well."

John flashed a glare and then followed the Decepticons out, Soundwave shutting the door after the human had exited.

Megatron was only half convinced, his prejudices still holding him back from trusting the human's skill. It seemed so much like a parlor trick than something real. Megatron watched as the human staggered to his feet, the vital fluid leaking from it's face and it's functional eye awaiting his verdict, as well as Soundwave.

"You may live for now, fleshling," Megatron told him; as much as he hated the words leaving his vocalizer the human had proved himself. He scowled at the human's sigh of relief. "But if you fail or show how useless you really are, I will not hesitate with your termination. You have had my only warning."

The human's expression dropped but showed that he understood fully.

With that Megatron turned his back to the carbon blob and headed for the exit, but not without leaving Soundwave with a warning for him. "Do not disappoint me or defy my orders in such a disrespectful way again, Soundwave. Or I promise you, you _will_ face consequences."

Speaking of disrespectful mechs that defied his orders, he had business in the brig, and left Soundwave with those last words.

With Megatron absent, John could breathe a little better— but not was well as he liked to.

Now he knew how a G.I Joe doll felt; his torso had been crushed to where he could feel every core muscle begging for rest.

Soundwave didn't care about the human's current wellbeing and set to attend his still unconscious creations, unintentionally leaving the Stunticon and the human to get better acquainted.

Breakdown watched as Soundwave placed each of his cassettes on his work station one by one to repair them. "Err... do you need any help Soundwave?" Breakdown asked, feeling awkward standing in his room.

The blue mech ignored him, and Breakdown bit his bottom lip component. Breakdown noticed the human, walking around before deciding to hide in the darkest corner it could find; trying to stay invisible from his optics. Unfortunately he only got to the door frame of the closet before he sank to his knees from exhaustion.

"So... where did you find him?" Breakdown questioned, walking over to the human to inspect it. The human's head snapped up at the sight of the mech towering over him. John rose back to his feet, prepared just in case the situation required to sprint.

Breakdown looked at him with a grimace. He never imagined one functional optic staring up at him could be creepier than two, however he tried his best to ignore him and say what he needed to exit Soundwave's quarters.

"Kickback told me what the entity was as well... and he did say that human methods were what we should use," Breakdown turned back to Soundwave. His lip components pressed into a thin line. "Starscream knows what he's doing, me and Astrotrain can say that he wasn't being controlled... by the ghost, I mean... _demon."_

Soundwave finally turned and looked over his shoulder, finally acknowledging Breakdown.

"I think... he wanted to learn how to become a _yhost_ as well."

Soundwave stared in silence at Breakdown-—calculating.

"Also... the human is an _exiciser_ right? Kickback said that was the type of human we needed," Breakdown asked, his optics blinking with insecurity.

Soundwave remained mute, unimpressed by Breakdown's message of what an Insecitcon recommended.

"Human is acceptable," Soundwave said before returning back to his cassettes.

Breakdown sighed, unsure of who's opinion to trust. With nothing more he felt he could pull from the stoic mech he turned to leave, but not without asking the human one final question.

"So... are you an _execiser_ human? How are you going to get rid of it?"

The human's fearful expression evolved into confusion. "Uhh... _exorcist _you mean?" John replied. "And yes... an exorcist _is_ what you all need. I'm just a paranormal investigator."

Soundave paused in his work, listening to John's words.

Breakdown frowned for a moment. "So... why do we need you?"

John stiffened again, wishing the robot would stop talking to him. "Because... my job is to assess the type of spirit and offer what needs to be done and I am also the one that says what type of priest you need. And I say you _do_ need an some sort of exorcist. It's a religious entity if holy water harms it. You need someone religious."

Soundwave turned in his chair, feeling his efforts to bring the human to the base to remove the demon to be nothing but a waste of his time; the human was suggesting that it needed _another_ human. John stared into the visor of his kidnapper, the deeper and more malevolent shade of red suggesting that he should have kept his mouth shut.

"Specificy why you withheld information prior to arrival?" Soundwave questioned, his monotone voice lower.

John felt his heart quicken, he could sense the Decepticon's anger smothering him. "Because... because I was not sure of the demon's religious piety before. I didn't know if it was Catholic, Lutheran, Calvinist or any other of the Christian branches. It is important to know for sure which type of exorcism will _not_ work," John inhaled heavily.

Soundwave narrowed his optics behind his visor.

"Also... there is something else I noticed," John sighed... "I don't know where this demon is getting it's energy from, but I know that salt will not hold him for long... and I think your demon knows it too. The demon would have put up more of a struggle." John glanced at the closed closet doors with a weary expression. "I don't know how long it will take him... but he'll get out— the line isn't very thick. It'll hurt him, but he _can_ get out."

John frowned at the lack of response he received from either Decepticon, a wave of embarrassment starting to wash over him. _Am I talking to myself?_

John watched as the other Decepticon gave Soundwave parting words in their own language and then left, but not without giving John a final glance. John narrowed his brows as he left. From what he gathered from his body language and the way he spoke to him was one characteristic.

Insecure.

John's lip tugged in a bitter grin. Maybe he was germaphobic (and he was the germ). Still... not matter how disgusted or afraid of him he was, John would always remain far more frightened of them.

John went back to the wall and pressed the top of his shoulder blades against it. His core flamed with pain, now that there was no fear to cloud his attention; he could feel just how tight Megatron's grasp could be.

He groaned softly in pain as his butt finally made contact with the floor, allowing a much needed exhale to escape him.

As he sat there in silence, the soft tinkering of Soundwave repair work the only sounds to pass the time away, John finally was able to feel the full weight of his grave situation. He was dead if the demon decided that John was an actually a threat, and what happened if John won anyway? He would be terminated when his worth ran out right?

He certainly hoped not... but doubted his chances.

* * *

As soon as Starscream's back touched the floor of the brig, Astrotrain let the bottom of his foot come down on the Air Commander's face —several times. Blitzwing sat back and enjoyed— his friend needed it more than he did.

"Hold _me_ hostage, Starscream?" —His foot crashed down on Starscream's bloodied and unconscious face — "You slag sucking"—_CRASH_ — "little coward!"

Astrotrain, an angered but simultaneously pleased disposition on his face, vented the hot air heating his form. "I'm no weak Autobot!"

Astrotrain turned his heel and exited the brig, Blitzwing towing behind as the purple energy bars formed into place and trapped the traitorous Air Commander. Astrotrain fumed, continuing to glare at the unconscious Seeker.

"Glad to see you takin' better than Breakdown... he's probably crying on Dead End shoulder plates."

"I don't give a frag what he's doing," Astrotrain said, "All I care about is how we now have two worms roaming around in our base."

Blitzwing smirked. "Oh I'm sure the human will be a big hit. A vermin against another vermin... I'd be surprised if Swindle didn't have bets already written down."

Astrotrain rolled his optics, an ill-humored smile on his face. "It wouldn't be the first time."

Astrotrain paused for a moment, remembering the scene in Soundwave's quarters. "There is something about that worm I don't like. Something... _odd_ about it."

"Beside's that we must put our hopes and dream's into the meatsack?" said Blitzwing. "I doubt he'll last long anyway."

"Right..." smirked Astrotrain. "If the others don't get him... no doubt Starscream's friend will."

Blitzwing smirked, calculating what the future will bring now that Soundwave found a human specialist.

"Should be an interesting show," Blitzwing replied with a shrug. "So would be watching Starscream get beaten by Megatron..."

"Which you are not invited to watch," interrupted a familiar voice.

Astrotrain and Blitzwing turned see Megatron standing in the doorway of the brig, a displeased expression on his face. "Leave. Your work is done here," he ordered.

Astrotrain and Blitzwing saluted their goodbye's and exited the room. Leaving Megatron to deal with his disobedient ilk.

Despite seeing his Second in Command possessed not a breem ago, he sincerely doubted that the tale told by Triple-Changers and Breakdown to be a fabrication. In a way, Megatron really had no choice but to take a percentage of Starscream's treachery— he really should have seen something as predictable as another one of Starscream's betrayals become part of the ghost problem. Still, his stupid Second in Command should know better than partnering with something as untrustworthy as the supernatural being that was haunting them all. Megatron couldn't help but smirk malevolently at how low his dog would stoup.

However... the Decepticon Commander also had his suspicions.

Even with all the ghost's pranks and _'attacks'_ he doubted that the entity had enough power to actually take a spark.

So what could it possibly have to offer for Starscream? Looks like he would receive that answer sooner than later...

Starscream groans soon turned into pained whimpers as he woke with a damaged jaw plate and trying to remember when he recieved it during the brawl with Soundwave.

"Wake up you traitorous cretin," Megatron growled as he approached the cell.

Starscream flinched slightly at the sound of his leader's vocals echoing in the dark brig.

"Megatron... I—"

"Shut up," Megatron ordered, in which the Seeker obediently complied. Starscream knew what was to come, he had gone through many procedures like it before: Let Megatron deliver a monologue of his _'incompetence'_, maybe a beating and then some sort of punishment, but he knew death was never on the menu, which gave Starscream no reason to fear.

Besides, killing him would be the biggest mistake that Megatron would ever make, especially since the Seeker knew how to cheat death now.

"So Starscream, what importance could you possibly hold for your new invisible playmate?" Megatron began. "If only I knew of your friendship earlier, I could have at least warned the abomination of your track record— and how useless you are."

Starscream grinded his dental plates in anger.

"So what was it Starscream? An assassination attempt for your servitude or are really stupid enough to believe that your dead comrade can give you anything? I must say I thought not even you were capable of being brainwashed by something you didn't even believed in."

Megatron laughed.

"Oh no mighty Megatron," Starscream said, his darker nature surfacing as a smug smile stretched on his face. "It was something much more worth my time."

"Oh?" Megatron questioned, his optics darkening. "And what would that be my _loyal_ Second in Command?"

"I warn you Megatron, if you kill me you will regret it. I will remind you every day..."

"I doubt that."

"When your not running in fear from my _friend, _you should really try talking to him... he has some interesting tips," Starscream smirked.

Megatron laughed, understanding brightening his optics. "Oh I see... you wanted to know how to escape death!" Megatron chuckled, angering the Seeker who didn't think of it as a joke.

"You really are a delusional fool," Megatron spat. "When I do terminate you, I'll make sure that there is nothing left of you to haunt anything."

His face lit with an idea as he approached the cell closer. "In fact Starscream, you are going to live forever."

"Really?" questioned the Seeker.

"Oh yes," Megatron nodded, humored malice in his voice. "I will personally see that for the rest of your miserable existence that you are reminded why I am the only one you serve."

Megatron lifted his arm and sent a shot into the brig, hitting Starscream in his left shoulder plate. The Seeker shrieked in pain and clutched it, whimpering.

"And why the living are far more threatening than the dead."And with that he left, leaving the Seeker to rot in his cage wounded— punishment for now.

The Seeker fumed, his optics drilling into the back of his leader's head with enough hatred to melt the plating on his leader's helm. He knew his punishment wasn't over but he still felt no reason to fear.

He had no doubt that the demon could erase the human specialist from the equation and get the back on schedule.

He let out a chuckle for leader; he had no idea how right he was.

Learning how to cheat death was the main reason he had join forces, but the Seeker would always remember to include his favorite sub clause regarding who should be leading them all.

All he had to do was wait for his ally.

And could Starscream wait...

* * *

**A/N:** Shorter than I wanted to give you all, but hopefully you all still enjoyed it.


	21. The Best is Yet To Come

**A/N: **This is probably the least frightening of all my chapters but it is one of those pesky necessary ones. :/ As the title suggests, I can't wait for the next one after this one. :)

Nevertheless, hope you enjoy! I also gotta give a thanks to all those who reviewed for the last chapter. It had been a long time since I updated so I was surprised to see anybody still following this. So I can't tell you how much I appreciate the feedback I got. Glad to back in the rhythm.

* * *

_**THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA**_

**Chapter 21**

**"The Best it Yet To Come"**

* * *

"Out of the tree of life, I've just picked me a plum/ You came along and everything started to hum/ Still it's a good bet that the best it yet to come." Frank Sinatra _(The Best is Yet To Come) _

* * *

It took only a single Earth day for the word to travel to every Decepticon audio receptor that there was another unwanted pest among them. However the rumor about who was keeping the human took them completely by surprise... that it was Soundwave who was keeping the human in his quarters— that was something they didn't expect.

Humans from time to time did happen to find their way aboard the_ Nemesis;_ the main reason was for entertainment provided Swindle and his mini gladiatorial games.

Another reason for a human presence was because the fleshie was of some importance to Megatron's plans and the other were far more sadistic and secretive; the Constructicons were known for experimenting while some of the more damaged processors found a way to get their kicks out of torturing them.

However this time it was an entirely different matter, because this time the human served a purpose the caused disgust and anger among them...

He was going to get rid of the entity that had been plaguing them— an entity that they for solar cycles had tried and failed to get rid of.

The fact that a human specialist had to come in and get rid of their problem was embarrassing. It was as if a cockroach was called in to exterminate another cockroach. Despite that Breakdown was vouching that he had witnessed the human's tactics work with Megatron and the Triple-Changers present, it still didn't sway them towards accepting or wanting the human's help.

The stubborn majority had voted. They didn't want another pest in the _Nemesis—_ they wanted the bug squashed.

However, there was one problem that stood in their way... and it's name was Soundwave.

Grudgingly, they knew they would never be able to kill the human if Soundwave was the human's spark-sitter. Plus with Megatron refusing to dispose of him, the human would be safe.

Strong High Grade slid down the throat of the mech that disagreed on the human being in the base more than any other Decepticon.

"I don't want that little slagging worm in here," Astrotrain grumbled, his cube slamming heavily on the table in the empty Common Room; the only other occupant besides himself was his fellow Triple Changer, Blitzwing.

"No matter how much you cry about it he is still gonna be here," Blitzwing replied, "I wanna do nothin' but throw the little maggot against the wall until he pops too, but it's here so stop gripping about it— you've done nothing in the past Earth cycle."

A glare flashed at Blitzwing from across the table.

"Besides..." Blitzwing continued. "Soundwave will get rid of him once he's done. It is _Soundwave_, afterall. The astro-second he's done with him, the human's dead."

Astrotrain scoffed. "A _human_ of all things we have to resort to."

"Yea... Swindle's already makin' bets on how long the little germ will live. I bet five cubes for 'bout two days. I think I'm giving the human too much time concernin' that no one wants it in here," Blitzwing smirked.

Astrotrain sighed as he leaned back in his chair, an angered disposition on his face. Blitzwing could read him like a datapad. "What's _really_ buggin' you about the bug?"

Astrotrain looked back at him with annoyed optics, he paused for a moment as if contemplating about telling him, but said. "You notice anything different about the base in the past day?"

Blitzwing's optics narrowed from behind his visor. "No."

"The lights are brighter. Mechs are talking to each other a little more— they're not hiding in their quarters as much— slag even the air feels thinner than it has since the ghost got trapped in the human's _magical_ circle."

"What's your point?"

Astrotrain leaned forward, his optics locked in a serious stare. "That fraggin' little worm managed to actually trap and harm that thing and we, the most destructive force in the universe, couldn't even get close to scratching it,"

Astrotrain shook his head in disapproval." I don't like us being upstaged—especially by a worm."

Blitzwing couldn't deny that he shared Astrotrain's resentment. "True... and after what Breakdown told everybody I'm sure everyone in the base feels the same."

Astrotrain smirked slightly.

"Like I said," Blitzwing continued, "He ain't gonna last long after the ghost is gone and Soundwave ain't gonna care what happens to him once his job is done. Everybody in this base wants him dead and the little slagger probably doesn't even know it. Once he doesn't have the telepath around to protect him... consider the squishy _squished_."

Astrotrain raised his High Grade, "Well cheers to our comrades in arms. Everybody's finally found something they all agree on."

Blitzwing chuckled and clinked his cube with Astrotrain's.

* * *

John knew it was coming the moment he succumbed to sleep uncomfortably against the wall of Soundwave's quarters... he was in for a long and painful stay in _Motel Hell_.

As hour after hour passed of John's vain attempt to sleep (taking the opportunity to rest while his kidnapper fixed his little monsters) his body started to complain about his treatment over the past 24 hours.

He lifted his shirt and noticed discoloration around his core. His ribs weren't broken but they definitely had to be bruised, something that surprised him after literally being the Decepticon leader's clutches; he expected worse. Without ice, it would take some time for them to be back to normal.

John exhaled deeply and let his head lean against the wall, his gaze fixed on the ceiling solemnly. "Fuck me," he whispered with an exasperated sigh. _Why didn't I just listen to my little shoulder devil? Christ I can hear him now... "I told you not to answer the email dumbass. You should have stopped thinking of others and just of taken care of your pathetic pedestrian life, but _noooo_... you just had to listen to the other guy. And you think I'm the prick. At least I didn't land you here."_

John rubbed his forehead with his index and middle finger. _Where the hell do I even start? How the hell do I get out of here? Why the fuck me out of 6 billion people in the world? _

John grimaced. "Damn it..." he whispered. No matter how much he blamed himself, he wasn't going to get out of the situation he was in. He exhaled a dissapointed sigh and ignored the voice of self-pity trying to distract him.

The sound of metal scrapping against metal grabbed John's attention and looked up to see Soundwave getting up from his chair and walking towards his direction. A cold shiver ran up his spine as thousands of panicked questions and scenarios raced through his mind. Soundwave hovered over him in silence, his red visor basking him in a crimson spotlight— waiting.

His presence was creepier than any ghost he had encountered. He hated that disturbing monotone silence and how unreadable he was; how you could never know what he the blue Decepticon was thinking or feeling— and it was alarming not knowing how he should behave around his captor.

He decided to break the ice, standing up as if to present some sort of minimal professionalism. "I'll need to... to speak with witnesses and get their encounters," he addressed in the loudest voice he could muster.

John waited but the Decepticon didn't respond. "I'll also need to learn more about what happened on Poveglia. I think this demon may—can— be weakened by Catholic devices and rituals since that's the key religion of the area... and if that's the case... an exorcism would help."

John waited for something, any acknowledgement that would ease the tension between him and the blue emotionless statue. He cringed and lowered his head as he spoke. "To be honest... and so I guess that I don't waste your time... I can't perform an exorcism myself. I've assisted but I can't do the ritual. It works only with a priest— someone who the demon would find a bigger threat than me."

Soundwave's head rose a centimeter and John took it as an indication to choose his next words _very _carefully. "However... I want to make sure before I even suggest anything. I... I just got here. I don't really know much at the moment, but... I _can_ help you until you need to find an exorcist. I can tell you it's weaknesses..."

Soundwave's head dipped slightly, as if he was looking John with understanding. Despite his mask John could feel that he hadn't been talking to himself and that Soundwave was actually listening.

John sighed. It would always be this way when he spoke to him, as if he was trying to hit a bull's-eye in the dark while riding a three-legged horse to understand what Soundwave was feeling.

However, if he was listening to what John was saying, probably a bacteria in his eyes, then he could sense that he was desperate to get rid of the demon and had no choice but to listen to John's advice no matter the his prejudice.

"You will be provided a transcript of the events to analyze; contact with the other Decepticons— denied. You will report your findings in 24 Earth hours."

John swallowed the lump in his throat and nervously nodded his understanding. He usually preferred more than 24 hours on a case but there was no room for arguing.

Soundwave turned his back to the human and searched for Frenzy's datapad. Soundwave had made it a habit to document everything that had happened for when he needed to draw comparisons of ghosts in the Cybertronian archives; which he never did find.

He searched through his files until he found his report on the meeting between the mechs and their encounters as well as the audio recording of the meeting from the security camera. He also included the video he had collected from the demon's appearances around the Nemesis from the security cameras. He had yet to document the recent event with Lancaster and found it to be irrelevant since the investigator was present during the event. He would of course import the information later in his files.

As he continued to download the files, a noise disturbed him from his waiting. A faint but very present muffled gurgling that came from behind him. At first he suspected the demon but found his visor landing in the direction of Lancaster, the sound waves projected from his midsection.

John sighed and covered his stomach. It had been almost a day now since he had eaten and he was surprised he didn't have use the facilities yet but he knew it would turn inevitable. As if their conversation topics couldn't become any more uncomfortable...

"Biological scan indicate that refueling required," Soundwave said before John could explain himself.

John's eyebrows rose. Did he just _scan_ him? He didn't recall Soundwave making any indication that he was assessing his _'fuel levels'_ in silence— or that he even could.

"Yeah..." John said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "I haven't, um, _refueled,_ in awhile."

Soundwave stared down at him in silence, and even though he was tremendously awkward John could tell that he must have been too. He was probably the first human that he would have to go out of his way and feed like a pet.

"List your requirements," was Soundwave's response.

A shaky and embarrassing sigh escaped through John's mouth unintentionally as he went from staring at the robot to his shoes. _Jesus Christ this is excruciating. _His mind went blank and his palms turned sweaty. _Talk! Say something!_

A hand flew over his stomach as noise issued from it once again, putting more weight on the silence. _Goddamn, I wasn't talking to _you...

John sighed again, forcing his mouth to move and his vocal cords to work as he gave the Decepticon his list: water— lots of water— non perishable foods, basic utensils (fork, spoon, knife, can opener etc.) a toothbrush, rock salt and of coarse the most important item he could think of... a toilet.

As John finished his list, he couldn't help but transport back in time to the second grade school play and remember getting so stricken with stage fright that he actually vomited on the lap of John Dickinson and the Declaration of Independence. By far throwing up on America was less embarrassing then telling a 40 foot robot that he needed something to shit in.

However, to John's relief and surprise the Decepticon seemed to not care and would give him his requirements. Soundwave bent to one knee, and John couldn't help himself and took a step back. Soundwave stared at him for a moment and then handed the human the datapad pressed between his large blue digits.

John swallowed the lump in his throat, his sweat glistening off his forehead in tiny red beads that were dosed in the red visor of the Decepticon.

He took it reluctantly and Soundwave released. "Documentation has been converted into Earth's English language. Begin."

John took the heavy metal tablet and retreated into his corner while Soundwave retreated out of his quarters and left John alone with paperwork, his offline cassettes and a demon in the next room.

John rolled his eye and set to work, his first mission: figure out how to work the Cybertronian Ipad.

* * *

Dead End didn't need the Stunticon bond to recognize the hesitant knocking at his door He could recognize it anywhere. He lifted himself out of his chair and immediately went to greet the visitor.

The door slid open to reveal Breakdown, a face he was anxious to see since he heard of the story that had been traveling throughout the base about Starscream's partnership with the entity and of course Soundwave's new pet.

"Hey Dead End..." was Breakdown's nervous greeting. He hadn't forgotten how he had accused him of attacking him in the Energon Storage Room, and he was certain Dead End hadn't either.

"Breakdown," returned Dead End.

"I... I..." Breakdown shifted from one foot to the other, his optics on the floor. "I wanted to, um, apologize for... _you know_... what happened at the meeting?"

Dead End stared back, saying nothing and letting his teammate continue.

"Also, that... I blamed you for attacking me..." Breakdown finish in a quiet voice. "I... I know now that you would never _afault_ me."

"_Assault_, Breakdown— and you do not have to apologize," Dead End replied.

The two shared a moment of silence until it was the atheist who broke it. "I'm not sure of what is happening within our headquarters. Perhaps insanity has infected us all and we are all destined to turn and terminate each other. We will rust anyway so perhaps fate is having some perverted fun with us all. Nevertheless... I apologize for what would give you the impression and fear that I attacked you and that you could no longer trust me."

Breakdown's optics blinked with disbelief. "How can you still not think it's a ghost... after all this time and after everything it's done. Everyone—including Megatron— believes but you."

"I believe what I choose to and I choose not to let this irrational explanation waver my beliefs. If I do die like we all will, then I choose to die the most illogical in everybody's opinion— at least I won't die with a hypocritical stain upon my rusted corpse."

"What do ya mean, Dead End?"

"I mean that none of the others believed in the paranormal until Soundwave used it as a last resort. We know how logical he is and I know that the most logical choice for him when he failed to find the answer was to accept the most unlikely answer... what was that human expression? 'Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth?' Well... I choose to dismiss Soundwave's conclusion and trust my own... there is no ghost, just mechs going mad and if we all die, well, than I choose to die sane."

The corner of Breakdown's mouth tugged in an awkward manner, his processor drawing a blank at what to say. He knew any debate would be useless. Dead End would never be swayed no matter how many occurrences he had with the demonic entity, but despite their different viewpoints and opinions on the situation, he was glad that he no longer had to fear Dead End or feel guilty for blaming him. Still... he couldn't help but feel alone despite rekindling with his fellow Stunticon.

"Ok..." was all that Breakdown could muster, "I guess I'll _hat_ with you later."

"The word is _chat_, Breakdown," Dead End said as Breakdown headed to his quarters and as Breakdown headed back to his room, he couldn't help but let a small smile of relief come across his faceplate.

However bitter the conversation ended, he was satisfied that there was no tension between the only mech that ever listens to him—except about the paranormal...

* * *

**CALIBRATING...**

**SELF REPAIRS COMPLETE. CONDITION - FULLY FUNCTIONAL.**

**SYSTEMS RESUMING.**

**INITIATING STARTUP MODE. **

**STASIS CYCLE ENDING.**

**ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE.**

Rumble's visor flickered for a brief moment before his visor solidified. He onlined, expecting to feel like he did after every battle, however he did not wake up sore or dented up. He onlined as if he had he had taken a nap; refreshed.

As he sat up, rubbing his helm, and he looked around as his processor tried to remember the last event that it logged before he had offlined.

_"Your human is safe if you were concerned,"_ remarked a familiar voice.

Rumble frowned and turned towards the feline face staring at him from the edge of Soundwave's computer table. Ravage turned to meet his brother, his optics shining with almost a half-humored glint.

_"I've been online for awhile now,"_ Ravage said. _"Rumor is that Starscream is in the brig and all the mechs in the base have been thinking of how to get rid of our new human pet. Unfortunately for him, they all think that we don't need the help of a meatsack."_

Laserbeak squawked from nearby and Rumble turned in time to see him swoop down and land next to Ravage; the condor's optics fixed on Rumble.

_"It would appear your little pet proved himself while we were incapacitated,"_ Laserbeak added. _"The only question I have is how long he will last if our malicious entity doesn't eventually terminate him."_

Rumble narrowed his optics beneath his visor, "If the squishy _has_ done somethin' to prove 'emself than there's no reason to keep shakin' about if he can get the job done or not."

Laserbeak flashed curious optics at Rumble's defensive tone. Ravage turned his optics away from the human who had noticed the feline's stare and intervened.

_"Despite wither or not your human proved himself, I still question his capabilities. It is a still a human who is facing an entity that has been tossing and toying with us around for the past year,"_ Ravage said. "_I'd like to know what it's plan is if it has any."_

"Are you sayin' I shoul' go ask 'em?" Rumble said with a flat and humorless tone. Ravage and Laserbeak stared in silence, but Rumble didn't need words to see that the answer was to what they were requesting.

_"Neither of us do not have a connection with him like you have,"_ Laserbeak remarked.

Rumble opened his mouth but no words came out; unable to think of a suitable comeback. Instead he narrowed his optics and jumped from the desk onto the floor.

Lancaster looked up from the yellow-note pad (taken from his suitcase) where he was taking notes, his eye gazing at Rumble with mild resentment before he went back to his research.

Rumble narrowed his optics at the ghost hunter. "What're ya doin?"

Lancaster paused for a moment, and then looked up again, his work paused once more. "Your, um... _master_, asked for me to analyze the events. That's what I'm doing."

Rumble looked down at the datapad that Lancaster was using and reading from. Rumble couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger hit him.

"That's Frenzy datapad. Wha' are _you_ doin' with it?"

Lancaster paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. "He gave it to me to use. It has information on it about your demon."

Rumble's emotions rolled over him like a thunder cloud; he stepped forward and yanked the datapad from John without warning."Someone coul' have told ya what has been happenin' - I could of when I onlined! It ain't like he's dead."

Silence added tension in the air and John couldn't help but sense Rumble's frustration and his grief. It was an indication and common reaction he had seen in many of his clients. If he said the wrong thing, they would become defensive and fight fiercely to cling to their last string of hope that their possessed relative would survive despite the odds against them.

Rumble's outburst confirmed John's suspicion. Rumble thought of his look-a-like like a friend or family member.

To John, the Decepticon's frightening, cold and emotionless war mongers who only saw the demon as interference rather than a threat. It was the first time he had seen what he had seen in many clients attached to the victim.

Fear that their loved one would die. He couldn't believe that any Decepticon had any capability to show compassion and love - even to their own kind.

John's professional demeanor surfaced and he searched for the list of questions he asked when he encountered a family member on the edge of breaking.

"Beside's, um, Frenzy do you think the demon has taken more interest in you then the others? From what I read, your... _group_ here has more contact then anyone else, beside's the Decepticon _Astrotrain_, or whatever he's called."

Rumble looked back at Lancaster, his optics blinking in a confused stare. "Ya, I guess... why ya ask fleshie?"

Lancaster finally stood and let out a heavy sigh. "This is just a theory... but most demons I have encountered always attack families and their family members— they like to break them. I think the reason why your group has had more contact than the other Decepticons is because it views your group as a family."

"That's fraggin' great fleshie," Rumble replied with a flat tone.

John frowned, feeling as if he was losing his client's interest. He looked back at his datapad for a moment, scanning to find something he could ask him.

"You said you have seen children and the doctor? Just to let you know they are all mind games. Very rarely is a demon a collector," Lancaster told him. "It's was always jus the one demon. Playing you like it has been with the others— nothing unusual. As common as demon tricks come."

Rumble frowned, shaking his head with doubt. "They were actin' like they were scared or somethin'. I thought the spookie likes to scare ya?"

Lancaster shrugged. "He was probably trying to fish you in. Get your guard down so you could be more vulnerable for possession. I think he wants to keep jumping around and possessing everyone till your all dead. You'd probably be the next one if he... gets done with Frenzy. He was probably playin' you with the EVP tape as well."

"Wha' about the doctor?"

"You went to Poveglia, everybody knows the story of the doctor. Trying to scare you," John explained.

Rumble sighed out of his vents, a small wave of embarrassment rolling over him; feeling stupid for even thinking the ghost sparklings reaching out to him were legit lost souls asking for help.

"Anythin' else?" Rumble asked in a bitter tone.

John paused, thinking until the question came to him; the one that he had for awhile. "Yeah... what's the Energon Storage Room?"

* * *

Swindle optic bridge's rose at the demand from the visitor standing in the doorway of his quarters. "You want me to get what?"

Soundwave was no fool, he knew what to expect from the Combaticon when he knocked on his door as well that he was one of the Decepticons amused that Soundwave had seeked fleshie services.

"Accumulate all items mentioned in one solar cycle. Appropriate payment: 5 Energon cubes for each item."

"10 Energon cubes Soundwave," Swindle responded. "Unless you want me to attract the Autobots attention that I'm collecting human supplies. It wouldn't take them long to figure out _why_ either."

"7 Energon cubes and deletion of the instances of human contraband in your possession on 16 occasions. Megatron: still ignorant of events."

Swindle quirked an optic ridge, humor casting over his face-plates. "Really? Shutting down my little games wasn't enough you also had to enter them into your computer? A bit overly meticulous but whatever it's your prerogative."

Swindle frowned suddenly, feeling he might regret asking. "I'm curious why you never reported them to Megatron though."

"Insurance in case of rejection of your services," was Soundwave's lie. Truthfully it was because Megatron had other things to worry about than something Soundwave could easily take care of and punish for... but as long as Swindle didn't know the reason, the Combaticon would believe it no matter how good of a salesman he was.

Swindle couldn't help but let a small but bitter smirk cross his face. "Blackmail? Gotta say, really sticking your neck joints out for your pet. I'll get your little pet his stuff."

Soundwave said nothing.

"Gotta ask though Soundwave," Swindle continued. "Why don't you get them yourself?Protecting him? Afraid we'll kill him? Not everybody's happy that he's here to get rid of our problem. Egos and all that, you know... For 5 cubes I could tell you the mechs that want to squish him the most."

Soundwave gave his answer and walked away. Swindle rolled his optics and closed his door; his deal reclined.

Soundwave knew that the other Decepticons disliked the human and it didn't affect him in the slightest. He had other concerns rather to worry about hurting the feelings of his fellow soldiers. The human would be safe for 24 hours, between Starscream in the brig and Rumble's trust that Lancaster could complete the job he didn't have to worry about the human's safety.

Soundwave's only concern was finding an acceptable Exorcist. After all the faster the issue was resolved, the better for everyone. It was the logical solution. Time was not on Frenzy's side and he could no longer waste time now that he felt was on the right path.

He hoped.

Unbeknownst to the telepath, the Doctor frowned from the end of the hallway. Doubting that any outside help would cure anything.

The sound of beast growling caught the dead Doctor's attention and he turned to his right suddenly. The twin children side by side staring at him with more anger than a normal, _human_ child could create. Their coal-like eyes telling him to be obedient.

He out of all of them knew what would happen if he didn't comply...

* * *

**A/N:** Cue the tubular bells... the Exorcist is coming. :D


	22. Tubular Bells

**A/N: Since it is Halloween, I decieded to put little treats throughout this chapter for all those who are as obssessed of this holiday as I am. If you watch the movies of the season, you may be able to point to find them. Some of them are easy, others are not. Can you find them all?**

**Also just as a fair warning, there is a lot of humans in this chapter, there will be more Nemesis events later.**

* * *

**_THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA_**

**Chapter 22**

**"Tubular Bells"**

* * *

**Morricone Park****  
****Torrington, Connecticut**

Fall winds in Connecticut were always crisp, but the scenery the season provided overshadowed the cold temperatures. It was one of the main reasons Gabriel Myers had decided to make a personal home in Torrington, the other was purely professional.

A decade of his life had been dedicated to the study of the supernatural in New England as well as the issue with what he called 'underground exorcisms'.

Only half of his work had been dedicated to book-work research while the other was a more _hands-on_ experience: getting his name around the religious community, interviews and things of that nature. His goal was to publish a book; what had turned into a college paper turned into an obsession. He was fascinated of the 'speedy-exorcism service' and in his opinion, the seemed more useful than a traditional Vatican approved one. His goal was to tell the world the benefits of an unofficial exorcist and why they should not be ostracized by the sterner folks of the religious community.

He sat in the park, his long steno notebook placed over his lap but void of any wet ink. He was waiting for his strange late phone call; someone who was interested and wanted to ask questions about his research. Hell, he couldn't turn it down; it was his first fan.

He was always early so didn't mind the wait, beside's it gave him the opportunity to plan out his next chapter. Although he was more focused on the blonde in the black tights, pushing a baby stroller. He sighed and adjusted his wedding band.

"Gabriel Myers."

The voice made him jump. The slender, brown haired man turned to his left to greet the man that snuck up on him. His brown eyes studied him surprise. He was tall but built like a redwood tree, handsome in nature but his demeanor made him imposing. He was serious and his dark sunglasses stared down at Gabriel with indifference.

What surprised Gabriel the most however was how cleanly he was dressed; a dark blue suit was hidden underneath a black trench coat, his dark red tie was perfectly done and Gabriel could see his very reflection in his polished shoes. The guy didn't fit anywhere outside of a law firm, especially since the he decided to bring a leather suitcase with him. Gabriel felt like a hobo in his dark jeans and green button shirt.

Gabriel forced himself to recover and nodded his hello, "Sorry, yes. I'm Gabriel. You must be Mr. Smith?"

"Correct."

Gabriel couldn't help but furrow his brows uncomfortably; Mr. Smith was certinaly not the life of the party. "Would you like to walk?" suggested Gabriel, "It's a nice park for that sort of thing."

Mr. Smith nodded his answer and Gabriel immediately stood up, feeling blood rushing through his short legs. As they walked on the pathway, auburn and yellow birches flanking them on each side, Gabriel swallowed the lump in his throat and started the conversation. "So Mr. Smith, what can I interest you with?"

Mr. Smith turned to him, his dark sunglasses giving Gabriel an unreadable expression. "Exorcisms; those who perform them and the procedure for acquiring one."

Gabriel shrugged, "Well acquiring one is never an easy process. You see, the ironic thing about exorcists is that they aren't always the jump-to-the-chance kind of soldier against Satan like most people believe. They are the most skeptical about the supernatural than anyone on the face of the Earth; they have to sort out all the paranoids that think their hamster is demonically possessed."

"You see," Gabriel continued. "They are the hardest to convince that Satan has taken over your body and wants to lick the frosting off your cupcake. They have to have evidence of undeniable proof before they'll even consider it."

"Defy proof," Smith asked.

"Well proof such as speaking in tongues the victim could never know, supernatural evidence around the house happening anything out of the ordinary— stuff that makes a poltergeist blush, that's usually enough to convince them. And after all that, a by-the-book Exorcist has to gain approval from their superior and then they have to gain approval from the Vatican. However, some can't wait along that long and that's where it starts to get _illegal_ and where my research comes in."

Smith replied with nothing but a blank stare; Gabriel decided to clarify. "You see it takes a long time to get an Exorcism approved and by the time the family gets help the situation is at its peak — when time is against them. See... demon's objectives are to kill you and the stronger and longer they are in the victim, more powerful they get because the victim are getting weaker. So _illegal_ exorcists investigate and can be ready to perform the ritual within a week or so — they don't have to wait for approval — mail travels slow from the Vatican. The only problem with illegal exorcists is that there are a lot of them, and not all of them are genuine."

"Explain."

"Well most of them are nut cases — and like I said so are most of the so called 'victims'," Gabriel chuckled lightly. "I've interviewed a lot of them. Ever sit in an Evangelical mass exorcism? You wonder why you're the only one in the church not on the floor foaming at the mouth, waiting for the priest to walk by and heal you. Never felt so awkward in my life!"

Gabriel smirked, turning to him with almost a satisfied disposition, "The most genuine I've found are here in New England and Europe. Except one... err name's Kelly. Lyman Kelly, I think. Lives in the south. Guy's tough as nails. He's good but rumor is that he has to have his clients fill out liability forms ever since he lost a victim— the family sued him. Guy got lucky too, the prosecutor was just a kid fresh out of law school. He also won't do a case without help of his nephew, supposed to be some sort of clairvoyant."

Smith head lifted, too quickly. Gabriel caught his interest in the clairvoyant. "Yup," Gabriel smirked, pulling his best Haley-Joel impression, "He see's dead people."

Smith said nothing and Gabriel shrugged, continuing. "The best exorcist, and the reason I got started on my project. Rudolph Mastrandrea. Haven't interviewed him yet; keeps declining. Word is that he is clairescence. That's why they call him the Roman Shark... they say he can smell a demon from a mile away."

Gabriel couldn't help but notice Smith's calculating disposition, which caused the man to furrow his eyebrow in suspicion. "By the way, I got to ask. You're not from some newspaper or a rival of mine, trying to steal my information are you? I don't really have any time for that if you are trying to swindle me."

"Negative," replied Smith. "Information will not be used for print."

"Sorry, I'm just paranoid and I have to ask. I'm already taking shots for being a rip-off to Michael Cuneo and the last thing I need is someone copying me."

"Only interested in the information to satisfy curiosity. It will not be used for publication of any sort," Smith answered.

"Alrighty," Gabriel said, giving an unconfident nod. "Just want to make sure. Anything else you want to know?"

"Do you possess any further information about Lyman Kelly or Rudolph Mastrandrea?"

* * *

**Decepticon Headqaurters**

John studied the cube with worry as it bathed him the glow of its multicolored ray in Soundwave's dark quarters. To him it was one giant puzzle-piece lying right in front of him. He was surprised he didn't think of the Energon cubes as a power source earlier, since the Decepticons made them from Earth's natural resources.

The most powerful ghosts and demons he had encountered came from places where there was natrual anomalies in the Earth or from factories; places where ghosts could draw extra energy from and have a power feast with it. It answered how the demon was so strong and how he could throw the Cons around like ragdolls.

John couldn't help but let out an uncomfortable sigh.

It also meant that the odds were in the demon's favor. If he was drawing energy from the cubes, the base, the Cons anything in the base that was electrical and full of energy— which was everything in the base—. How was it going to be exercised if it had so much strength?

It would either have to remain in the salt circle or— if the demon believed in it— trap it in the Key of Solomon... but the Key 9 times out of 10 it never worked; he either drew the tedious symbol wrong or the demon knew better than to believe in pretty drawings.

As Rumble continued to talk to his fellow cassettes, John suddenly felt the cogs in his brain start to go into motion. An idea formed...

* * *

**Georgia  
Near Savannah**

Night had already fallen on the house when Mr. Smith arrived to the farm house of Dr. Lyman Kelly. Darkness hid the approaching man as he walked up the long driveway under the threads from the Spanish moss hanging from the trees like snags in clothing. The full moon broke the fence of the twisted tree branches to expose Mr. Smith for what he really was; a hunter in the dark, finding the perfect specimen for his needs. And he didn't care if his prey had any objections. Soundwave would not fail in getting what he came for.

According to Myers, he was one of many to reach the breaking point and natural seek out faster means of expelling the plague in the Nemesis. Weither they were the most appropriate was concern he had.

Lyman Kelly had been his first choice ever since Myers mentioned that John Lancaster and Kelly worked in a team. He knew of Kelly ever since Rumble had been interested in the clairvoyant but found him unnecessary and thought the ghost hunter would have been the answer. He was wrong. He needed more than one human in the base. Despite that he was a rational, patient and composed mech, he like every intelligent life form had a certain breaking point.

He didn't care that he was bringing another human into the base without Megatron's authority, he knew his leader would undoubtly despise another insect but would find it's worth. An exorcism would rid them of the entity and he needed the human to perform one.

As Soundwave's hologram approached the home, reaching the stairs and the end of the driveway that lead to the dark green door of the white two-story historic home.

Suddenly his audio receptors picked up the sound of a string instrument playing inside, muffled by the walls but not for Soundwave. Curiosity overtook him, and found that it was a violin playing the Swan Lake Suite, OP.20: scene.

What struck Soundwave as odd was that the human was choosing to play in the dark of his home; there wasn't a single light on in the home and he knew that humans only shut off electricity when they were in their state of recharge.

As he reached the end of the walkway and stepped onto the warn floor of the aged deck and as he heard the scratch of the violin's playing ending abruptly.

There was no warning that Soundwave should be alarmed, although he did find it curious that although his hologram produced no footsteps, that the human inside the house seemed to know that he had a late night visitor at his door.

Soundwave decided to do away with the masquerade and entered the home uninvited, the door surprisingly unlocked for him.

Moonlight spilled through the small oval window over the window of the door and gently lighted the entrance of the house, in front of him stood a basic staircase, a hallway with closets lined against the wall, separated by the living room area.

Soundwave's hologram form stepped into the seemingly empty home and entered the living area. It was common by human standards, if not a touch more lavish than others. The rug was gold and red trimmed under a dark wood coffee table with several religious books sprawled over the top of it, books that had been pulled from the shelves of the glass cabinets that lined the outer wall by the window. Outside the window in the distance showed a tree line and a forest beyond the grassy field separating the house and the woods.

Soundwave sensors were however more interested in the violin that sat neatly on the old leather chair with a stand and sheet music opened.

Even though Soundwave's knowledge of human musical instruments was limited, he could tell by the flimsy and poorly maintained structure of the instrument that nobody could have played on it. The wood was dirty and fragile with clear indication that it had suffered water damaged, the strings were broken and twirled at the base of the rotten and moldy bridge.

Soundwave decided to ignore it; it was not what he was looking for. He could see a dining room area in the next room and beyond that a kitchen area, so he thought logical to investigate upstairs for bedrooms.

As Soundwave stepped back into the entrance area he stopped dead at the stairs. The violinist had been discovered and the only way that Soundwave could have come to that conclusion was that the curly, red-headed gentlemen was holding the bow, the hair on the bow almost non-existant. He softly used it as a cane while he rested the majority of his bodyweight on the stairs rail at the top of the stairs.

"I apologize if I startled you. I seldom forget that I do to almost all folks no matter how many years in my situation," began the smooth, accented voiced gentlemen.

Soundwave didn't reply, his warning sensors starting to come alive.

He knew that it wasn't Lyman Kelly despite that the dark hid his face from him. Soundwave couldn't help but find it odd that it was only his face that appeared to have a blotchy and perfect circle of a shadow, his hair and neck was clearly visible but not the rest of his features.

He also knew that the way the gentlemen was dressed was not accurate to the times. The navy blue and silver velveteen frock coat and breeches, the black and silver waistcoat, the white knee high socks, and black shoes were more appropriate in the early 18th century and not the 21st. Also that the gentleman gave off the same energy waves as the demon was a clear indication that whatever he was talking to was no longer alive.

"Location of Lyman Kelly," demanded Soundwave in an almost annoyed hum. Another demon was far from what Soundwave had expected and wanted to find.

"I'm afraid I drove the poor Lyman out of his home once again— well,_ my_ home actually. He despises when I possess him. I believe he has come to conclusion that our relationship is soemthing hostile," replied the faceless demon.

Soundwave didn't reply.

The demon raised his violin bow, pointing it at the Decepticon as if it was a pointer. "Your odor is the same as that muscular fellow that visited Lancaster. You must be a machine as well."

Soundwave didn't reply; honestly slightly stunned.

The demon's head tilted. "Yes... I can smell that the suitcase is not made of leather."

A silence drifted over the room as the demon stepped loudly down the stairs. "I know what you must think of me, machine. I'm like the other one troubling you. Alas I'm not. I differ from those religious goons. No magic circle is strong enough to contain me, nor incantation can drive me back to Hell. I do not believe in all that nonsense, therefore it has no effect. But I'm sure that Lancaster himself could have told you that if he ever dared to tell you about me."

Soundwave narrowed his holographic optic bridges. How did he know that Soundwave had contact with Lancaster?

"I'm good at reading minds, machine," the demon replied. "There is no secret you can hide from me no matter how many defenses you use. I am old and experienced. Not to mention intelligent."

Soundwave replied with nothing, only recalling that the other entity was as good as reading his mind as well. Their strong ability appalled him, making him feel vulnerable. He despised vulnerability.

"If you are thinking of abducting the poor doctor, I strongly suggest you venture away from that idea," the demon sighed. "Lyman and Lancaster are as compatible as your faction and the Autobots. I always do enjoy watching your altercations on the television."

Soundwave felt a distrusting wave wash over him.

"I recommend Mastrandrea. He's much more suitable I think for the fellow you have roaming inside your headquarters," the demon continued, almost a chuckle in his voice. "Almost convinced me that I could be exorcised from this property. No easy task— I'm _very_ stubborn."

Soundwave disliked the abomination on the stairs, he disliked the tone of the calm and professional manner of the demon; the same species that had been causing him nothing but problems over the past year. However rationality was far more credible than his feelings and if the demon was right about the relationship between Lancaster and Kelly, than he would be no closer to solving his crisis, just creating more unnecessary problems he did not need.

"Personal gain for information," Soundwave asked. These situations usually contained a catch.

Soundwave could feel the demon's smirk in the dark. "John and I have a very..._ ironic_ relationship. I've known him inside and out since he was a child. We have a compromise Lancaster and I. I tend to find myself rather bored in this limbo. He brings me sheet music so I don't go mad like the others around my property. It is the reason why Lyman is so angry with John. John is smart enough to know that I cannot be exorcised and Lyman thinks I can. The only reason I would go through all that trouble to posses Lyman was to retrieve my music. In exchange, I do not bother John. "

Soundwave didn't reply. He wasn't sure what to reply with. Dispite his enternal distrust for the creature, he felt as if it had been genuinine to him and told him the truth about Lancaster and Kelly's relationship. He grudingly accepted, he just hoped that there were no demons to sway his decision of Mastrandrea or he would find himself with nothing but a useless clairvoyant.

Soundwave turned to leave, his holographic trench coat swinging swiftly as he marched to the door. He was halted from a voice from the stairs.

"Oh and please be fragile with my dear clairvoyant," the demon smiled in the dark. "I desire my Danse Macabre notes and if I do not get them, I may take them out of your metal hide. I am a demon afterall... I'm not reluctant to act prehistoric to achieve what I want."

Soundwave looked over his shoulder, his holographic features flashing the entity with an equally malignant stare. His challenge was meant to frighten but Soundwave knew it was nothing more than a pathetic bluff. Still, the fact the demon had the tiniest trace of compassion for Lancaster, a supposedly natural enemy to a demon, was amusing.

"Taunt: vapid," replied Soundwave.

The demon laughed, throwing his curly red head back in show. "I admire you Soundwave. Pass along a message if you could? Tell him his good friend Wilcox wishes him the best in his endeavor."

Soundwave narrowed his optics and managed to compose himself from storming out the door. As he set foot onto the road, he prevented his feeling from crashing over him. The most frustrating thing he found about the creatures was their arrogance. Harsh words directed at him were meaningless but it was their arrogance that they knew that Soundwave could not hurt him Defenseless was not a comfortable position he liked to be forced into.

It was sometimes difficult not to be convicted by his emotions, especially when he was as guarded. But he knew that like all mechs he had a breaking point as well, his bar far higher above motives were always directed by logic and not by feelings and he disliked when he was forced to use the latter.

However, his instinct told him that although that the demon 'Wilcox' purpose was to toy with him emotionally, that he was telling the truth; he could tell that the demon wasn't lying. He was more interested in Lyman and Lancaster than giving Soundwave lies.

If Mastrandrea was what was needed, than Mastrandrea is the exorcist he would find.

* * *

**Bronx****  
****New York City, New York**

After three minutes of rain, the owner of his jean jacket found himself cold and wet as the water bled through the material over his head and soaked his hair underneath.

There had been taxis that passed but declined them, he was waiting for one in particular. One that the Father had said to call. It was an unorthodox way of setting up an appointment but he accepted it for the sake of his mother.

Finally a yellow cab marked **217** pulled into view around the corner of Arthur Avenue and headed in his direction. Without hesitating the tan skinned gentlemen through up his hand and signaled the taxi down.

Victor lifted the collar of his jacket over his head to get a better look at the gentlemen driving, well he expected a gentlemen anyway...

A young black woman was the driver; petite and bony but a kind hearted looking soul at first glance who acknowledged him with a blank nod and pushed her square rimmed glassed back onto her face.

Victor had his doubts, he expected a gentleman. He tried to wave her off but instead the woman rolled down the passenger side window, leaned forward and said over the noise of the rain, "Victor Torres? I'm here to fetch you."

After a small moment of acceptance and realization. Victor muttered."Fine, fine," Victor muttered with the wave of his hand; now that he was sure it was the right driver he was more interested in the cab's interior dryness and warmth. He opened the door and climbed inside, the wetness of his clothes sticking to his skin and squealing against the vinyl black seats.

Within a short moment the cab accelerated and joined the other vehicles on the street, heading to a location unknown to Victor.

The whole adventure seemed cinematic to him and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. When he approached his church for help he didn't expect to be given instructions to a location to meet a man who was supposedly the answer to his problems. He almost expected that he was supposed to be followed, as if to tie the whole cliché together.

Unknowingly to him, he was right.

However Soundwave wasn't interested in Victor's ordeal, he was interested where the cab was taking him. He too had found the Father at the chruch...

Soundwave walked through the streets of the neighborhood, a mental lock on the vehicle. He turned into an alley, to avoid human eyes on his hologram and why rain seemed to have no effect on him.

With no witnesses nearby in the trash ridden nook, his hologram disientrageted, along with the suitcase mirage covering his boom-box form. His anti- gravity switched on and the boombox followed the cab, high above.

* * *

Victor found it ironic the meeting place was a location he often visited.

The Bronx Library Center. A modern architectural metallic building with large windows and a rooftop that swept downward like the curve of a hockey stick. He enjoyed the solitude of the building, it was visited but people still honored the universal rule of silence.

A strange twinge of embarrassment ran through him, as if as he should have known this was the place the meeting was being held, and wondering which regulars was going to be his savoir.

"Go to the check desk and ask for a book by William Peter Blatty, the librarian will give you the number," instructed the woman whose name he had learned was 'Jillian'. "You're total is on the house."

Victor nodded his 'thank you' and stepped out of the cab, the rain settling on his damp clothes once again. Cab **217** took off into the fury of the traffic again, red taillights blinking periodically from the heavy commute.

Victor raced up the stairs of the library until he reached the large glass doors and entered, a gentleman wearing a trench coat following him inside.

Victor crossed the white floors to the pine lobby desk where an elderly attendant stood by scanning books into the computer, the Hispanic gentlemen almost colliding with a young boy chasing a girl, his hands mirroring a sock puppet and teasing her by saying 'Feed Me!'

Victor approached the woman with reluctance, unsure if she was even the right librarian to ask. "Umm... I am looking for a book by William Blatty?"

The ebony woman looked up at him, her glasses blocked by her salted hair. Her eyes were sympathetic towards him and he could tell that by her heartbroken expression that she was the librarian he was supposed to ask.

She reached into her jean pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, "First floor, fiction."

Victor nodded hesitantly before he headed towards the beige staircase against the grey art full of the bulbs of traffic lights; a modern art piece at the library. Soundwave who had overheard the conversation headed towards the elevator.

Victor looked at the number written in his hand before peering around at the rows of books on the large floor, the decimal system listed on each of the stacks to confuse him more than help him.

"Horror section," he said out loud to himself, walking from shelf to self as if he was trapped in a labyrinth.

After a couple of minutes of searching, he arrived at the end of a long shelf of fiction books, and at the other end at a table with a view of the street below, sat a man in his mid-forties reading the book that he was supposed to find.

Victor couldn't help but give a small smile at the man's sense of humor. Victor couldn't help but feel both a sense of easiness when he approached him, as if he was certain he was going to be the answer to his problem, although he also still maintained a sense of worry and doubt at the same time, even though it wasn't the dominant emotion running through his body.

The man looked up as he approached, a sharp brown eyebrow rising as his brown eyes stared at him, studying him almost with doubt. His thick walrus moustache twitching like an acknowledgment to Victor's presence. Victor couldn't help but suddenly feel uncomfortable around the slender man.

He smiled at Victor, almost like a bull smiling at a sheep. "Victor?" the exorcist addressed, his voice as baritone as thunder.

Victor nodded, feeling almost as uncomfortable as child in front of his professor.

Victor, who was expecting him to be blunt and stern, was almost taken aback when the man nodded his head in a friendly gesture, closed his book and stood up to shake Victor's hand as if he was a long lost friend. "I am Rudolph Mastrandrea. Now, I understand you wanted to meet me?"

Victor nodded, "Yes sir."

Mastrandrea smiled under his heavy scathe, "Well since that it is raining metaphorical cats and dogs, would you like to sit down and discuss your situation?"

"Alright," Victor responded with a nod.

Mastrandrea resumed his seat, straitened his tweed jacket and folded his hands on the table as if he was preparing to say grace. "Now, tell me it from the beginning. I'm the kind of man who likes every detail, no matter how insignificant."

"Well she is sick... there is something in her. Something... not human," Victor began hesitantly under his breath.

"You think it is something diabolical?" Mastrandrea's eyebrows rose. "What faith do you belong to if you don't mind my asking?"

Victor grimaced slightly. "I belong to no faith father," Victor shook his head. "My mother on the other hand is very spiritual."

"I see... and please don't call me father, makes me sound ancient," Mastrandrea joked.

Victor furrowed his eyebrows. "You're not a priest?"

The corner of Mastrandrea's eyes caught a flash of color, he had thought he had seen movement from behind the bookcase but failed to catch a full glimpse. However, the strong sulfuric smell that had been coming from that direction since Victor arrived had never left.

"Sir?"

Mastrandrea focused his attention back on his client, "I apologize I thought I saw something. And to answer your question yes I am. Now enough stalling, tell me about what has been going on."

* * *

An hour later, Victor was given with a number for another source who could help his mother, one of the mother's own faith. He was a little dissapointed that Mastrandrea himself would not perform the exorcism. _"I'm Italian sir, your situation calls for someone who is more of a Conquistador."_

Mastrandrea put a reassuring hand on Victor's shoulder as he led him towards the end of the bookcase. "I assure you. If there is anyone who can speak a better spanish, it's Damien."

Victor gave a small nod and headed to the stairs. Mastrandrea frowned as soon as he left, the sulfuric smell still lingering in the library after a full hour. His nostrils flared, sniffing the ole too familiar smell to its source. He looked down to see a small leather briefcase at the base of the bookcase. Mastrandrea bent to one knee and studied it with suspicion.

Mastrandrea looked over the library, as if trying to find the owner from the sea of silent folks reading at the tables in the library. He rose, giving the suitcase a once over before trusting his instincts and leaving the foul smelling thing behind. Hoping that the smell wouldn't follow him.

As Mastrandrea descended down the stairs, and soon after so did a man holding a suitcase.

* * *

**Central Park**  
**Later that Evening**

The rain finally faded enough for the minimal number habitants of New York City to enjoy the patch of nature with the routine of their day. Walkers and joggers passed by him, their sneakers getting soaked as they splashed in the puddles by Mastrandrea's bench where he spent the rest of his evening reading with the librarian.

After 20 pages of silence into each of their books, the librarian finally broke the silence. "So was he legit?"

"Yes," replied Mastrandrea, his reading glasses never leaving the pages of 'Good Omens'. "Unfortunately I don't speak Spanish. The demon wouldn't understand a word I would be saying."

The Librarian grimaced slightly. "How much longer do you plan to do this? Have my daughter pick up strangers and take them to the library?"

"Until I am no longer a pariah," Mastrandrea answered. "Only Father Carpenter seems to approve of my methods. Otherwise I would meet folk at the church and not have to be the cheese at the end of a maze."

"Just as long as you dislike it as much as I do," the Librarian replied.

Silence lingered over them again, before she broke it once again. "I'm thinking blue curtains for the apartment. What do you think?"

When she received no reply she looked up and saw Mastrandrea staring at something in the distance. Her eyes followed his gaze to the trees and bushed across the cement path.

"Is the something there?" she asked with concern. After a long pause, as if to make sure he was positive himself Mastrandrea replied. "I'll be right back, dear."

She flinched in protest when he put down his book on the bench next to her and watched him walk towards the area he had looked at. Mastrandrea calmly walked towards the leaf-less trees and bushes, the cold wind bitter but powerless to block the overpowering sulfuric smell that had followed him from the library.

Mastrandrea lifted his leg and stepped over the bushes. He brushed his black overcoat once and continued walking to the tree line. The scent took him deeper and deeper; the bare tree's branches bunched up enough the start to conceal him as he walked deeper. He was hesitant but proceeded. His hands went to his pocket where a small revolver bounced against his leg; the other pocket contained holy water.

If something was following he would greet his stalker accordingly.

His stalker was faster.

A hand flew over his throat and whirled him until his back was to a tree, a crushing force to his throat, preventing him from calling out. Mastrandrea glared into the sunglasses of his assailant and removed one of his hands from his pocket and drew the holy water, flicked the cork with his thumb and splashed water on his happened. Nothing but an electronic static that echoed from his attacker.

Next came the revolver. The hand that held the briefcase dropped and gripped his wrist with a crushing force. Mastrandrea grimaced in pain as his wrist was twisted and the revolver fell harmlessly to the ground.

His attacker tilted his head at him as the suitcase beeped online. Soundwave's time was running out and Mastrandrea's curiosity forced him to use the opportunity no matter what attention he would earn. He was tired of waiting.

The Librarian watched with concern for Mastrandrea to return back to the bench. Her stomach churned, intuition telling her something was wrong. She was right.

Tree's snapped as they tried to feebily contain Soundwave's true form.

She watched in horror, as well as a group of teenagers and young couple who were walking under an umbrella at the time, as the Decepticon lifted his hand with Mastrandrea clasped in it, opened his chest compartment and shove the protesting man inside.

"No!" she shouted, running as if to make an attempt to save Mastrandrea. She stopped in her tracks when Soundwave's shoulder canon whirred to life.

Soundwave fired on the mice that scattered at the blasts. The woman and man fleing towards the group of teenagers who flew behind trees.

Soundwave continued until it was confirmed that all witnesses were terminated. The only evidence was the small fires smoldering in the park. With his objective complete, he powered on his anti-gravity and took off.

Finally able to return to base.

* * *

**1. 'Tubular Bells' is the main theme of the Exorcist.**  
**2. Morricone Park - Ennio Morricone is the composer for 'John Carpenter's The Thing.'**  
**3. Gabriel Myers - Myers is the last name of the slasher from 'Halloween.'**  
**4. Haley Joel impression 'The Sixth Sense.'**  
**5. Swan Lake Suite - Black Swan**  
**6. Cab number - 217 is the forbidden room in the Shinning... the book version. **  
**7. 'A book by William Peter Blatty' - The author of the Exorcist.**  
**8. 'Feed Me!' - quote from 'Little Shop of Horrors.'**  
**9. Damien - name of the Anti-Christ from 'The Omen/ The priest 'Damien Karras' from 'The Exorcist'.**  
**10. Good Omens - parody of 'The Omen'.**  
**11. Father Carpenter - nod to the Master of Horror/ director 'John Carpenter'**

**I own none of these refrences...**


End file.
